Seven
by Atheniandream
Summary: There were seven times that he tried to win her back. S7. Donna POV.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes:** _Dedicated to #faxwhispering on Tumblr for her awesome chats and track recs that spawned a new place for darvey._

* * *

 **Seven - Part 1.**

 ** _By Atheniandream_**

* * *

Summary: There were seven times that he tried to win her back. S7. Donna POV.

* * *

 _There were seven times that he tried to win her back._

 _Seven times over seven separate days that changed them from what they were to what they are._

 _Born of seven sins over seven years._

 _But not the sins that we know of,_

 _The sins of two people,_

 _Lost between one another and their joined world._

* * *

 **Mike Ross - The young man that _really_ set the ball rolling...**

She loves Mike.

But Harvey's actions changed everything.

She sometimes wonders what the firm would be like if he hadn't hired his _then_ Associate. If they hadn't had to defend a firm that had stood solid for six years before it started to fall at their hands.

 _Where would they all be?_

 _Would she still have her own office?_

 _Would he be heading the firm as his own?_

She's grateful for her current situation, she really is.

But like everything, i _t comes at a price. And a heavy one._

 _ **Sometimes she wonders if it was truly worth it.**_

* * *

She's late today. Unlike the partners, she doesn't have her own town car, never needing to impress anyone in particular, never needing to roast meetings with a Hail Mary pass or fly into corporations and take them over and spread her weight around to make a point.

Her job is simple. **_Keep the ship afloat_ _at all costs._**

She's flustered on this rather cold Monday morning; her perfect hair isn't its usual curtain of imposing auburn or a gravity defying wonder, and her nails honestly need redoing, but she just hasn't had the time. Closing her door behind her, she deer-steps down the hall to the rickety elevator on her floor.

She taps her heel, the ingrained need for coffee making itself known as the metal box descends, and her with it.

 _You've already had your morning coffee_ , she reminds herself.

The trouble is, this new position of hers is a ' _two coffee' job_ , minimum.

She presses her arms against the clunky lobby door, her long legs stalking down the steps to the sidewalk.

"Harvey?" She pauses, frowning.

 _It's not like all the other times._ She wears a slight frown, now. _She's trying to work through it,_ she really is.

 **But some things can't be bent or broken.** _Such is the law of the universe._

He pushes off of his town car, his hands clapping together as he nears her.

"What are you doing here?" She asks, trying to level her rather pensive feeling expression. She swallows, tilting her head at him in a bird like fashion.

"I thought...that we could... _go to breakfast_ this morning?" He offers, a small if not unsure smile sliding onto his lips. "At Perrine. Or...perhaps... _The River Cafe_."

She sighs, the sound seeming hollow.

 _They haven't been like this in a very long time._

For one, The River Cafe is where romance either sinks or swims. And they don't even have a 'boat' in that regard.

 _She's seeing someone._ She doesn't talk about her personal life at work anymore.

Her expression dents, her head tilting again as she holds her bag in front of her. "That's a lovely offer Harvey, but I can't." She declines.

"Why not?" His brows knit together. "We've always gone to dinner before. Breakfast. Lunch?" He reasons.

" _That_...was when you were _my Boss_." She reminds him. "You're not - directly - my Boss anymore."

"We're still colleagues though, right. _And friends_?" He defends, a question bending the statement, seemingly wounded by her insinuation, but no less standing his ground.

When she doesn't answer, his lips mash together in distaste.

She laughs internally. _Harvey Specter not getting what he wants always ends in the same way. **Pouting. Begging. Then Bargaining.**_

"But in a different way, now, Harvey. I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline. I'm sorry," She breathes, beginning to feel exasperated at his pressing the matter. "I have a ton of work on my desk that I'm already late for, so." She says, looking at her watch.

"Okay…well then...at least...hitch a ride with me?" He offers, animated as he points at the car.

"No, Harvey. It doesn't look good. Especially with my recent promotion. We need to be... _professional_ , now."

He looks floored. And it's hard to floor a man like him. She must have only seen that expression a handful of times.

She can see that he wants to say something. Perhaps something about her having never worried about looking professional before, or something of that nature.

She straightens, sliding a pleasant smile on her face. "See you at work, Harvey." She nods, before sliding past the front of the car, and waving to a waiting Ray.

She treats herself to lunch out that day.

A victory, for her heart, at least.

* * *

 ** _If you wanna say something_**

 ** _Man up, don't say nothing_**

 ** _Oh, I speak the truth_**

 ** _If you wanna say something_**

 ** _Silence don't mean nothing_**

 ** _But it does to you_**

 _ **Heard the silence become a part of you** \- Grace Carter 'Silence'_

* * *

 **Dana Scott - The One that somehow wasn't**

She always knew that there was a pretty high possibility that Scottie was _the one_.

She had been the _first_ one, after all.

And something between her own protectiveness over Harvey and watching that small, seemingly strong Lawyer fall apart at the seams made her wish for them see it through to the finish line.

She, Donna, _had_ been in love with him. She _had_ been jealous. But she had swallowed it all down in the vain hope that Scottie could break him first.

But as it happened, he had ended up breaking her, in the process.

She should have seen it there. Seen the way he continued to take from Scottie without giving.

 _Dana Scott would forever stand as a metaphorical martyr of love._

 ** _A marker of what a man like him could do._**

* * *

She's getting a headache, being in between Harvey and Louis.

She understands, for the first time, why Jessica used to lose her shit on occasion.

She thinks upon the woman, _the Queen of PH come PSL_ , that left a gaping hole in their firm.

She knows that she could never fill her shoes, but she hopes that the older woman knows that she is trying her _very best_ to represent, for the women in this firm. For justice, and for keeping the ship firmly on a course that is right and fair and as clean as it can be in such dirty waters.

It's dark now, her having left the two men in Louis' office to bat it out until they came to a much needed agreement. She had admitted defeat at around nine. About the same time that she figured out that it was _no longer_ her job to wait over Harvey and see that he play nice, twenty-four-seven.

The lights are low, and the night sky reflects on the pictures in her office. She lays back, kicking off her manolos and raising her stocking covered legs onto her desk.

It's a strange sensation, her relaxing on something that's solely hers. Sure, she's had a desk for years, but now she has a space, too. And it means something more. She'd spent fifteen years overstepping her position, all over parts of Harvey's office; her feet on his desk, or spread out on his couch, thumbing through his albums or even sitting on his window sill, to the point that _the act_ , now, in her own office, was a very different one. She picks up the small engraved tumbler from her desk, taking a sip of her light japanese whiskey as she sighs the day away.

 _She should go home soon._

But she's used to relaxing, decompressing in this building after her shift. _Just like before. Only different._

She hears a lazy knock against glass, and looks up to find a rather dishevelled looking Harvey, legs crossed at the ankles towards the frame as it supports his weight, his hair pulled out at all ends, and his sleeves rolled up, his tie absent from the frustrations of compromise. At a quick glance he looks like a young Mike.

"Finally," He breathes, looking towards her with vague interest. "Got another one of those?" He infers, pointing to her glass.

She sighs, watching as he pads into her space. _He does that now. Knocks._ It's a change from their old ways. She bends her legs, planting them on the ground as she wanders over to her little mini bar. "I gather that your presence means that you've finally worked out a deal with Louis?" She asks, the assumption already planted.

He shrugs, his lips pouting and watches her pour the clear liquid from her decanter into a fresh glass. "Something that the client will be happy with." He reasons. "And something that doesn't _break our bank_ in the meantime." He adds with a stretch, stepping forward to receive the glass that she offers.

She watches as he sips the drink, frowning slightly at the difference in taste.

"That's not Macallan." He identifies, giving her an odd look.

"No.. _.it's not_." She remarks. "It's also _not your office_. Go figure." She points out with the slightest knife edge of sharpness in her tone, quirking an eyebrow at him playfully.

He matches the expression. "It's...flowery." He notes.

"It's crisp and delicious and if you don't like it...you can walk yourself back to your own stash." She remarks.

He chuckles, looking down at his drink like a child that's been told off by his mother, continuing to sip the clear liquid. She wanders back to her desk, planting her stocking clad feet back on her own desk.

"It suits you." He compliments, taking another sip.

She had opted for a couch instead of chairs. She didn't have many meetings in her office, and any were arranged as 'casual talks'. She watches as he wanders to the small couch alongside, lowering onto one side as his arms rest along the back, the whiskey tumbler dangling from one hand.

She sighs, looking into her refilled glass, as he sits in a small silence.

They don't often live in silences anymore. For her, they are just too painful now. A new promotion also broke her out of the instinct of being a masochist. _She's more than that._ Now she can exorcise that part of herself, freely.

She looks up at the very moment that he appears to be struggling with something. She can see the words filtering up from his stomach to his mind and then finally to his mouth as he articulates them. "Why don't you come to my office anymore?" He asks, quietly, thoughtful, as he looks into his glass.

"What?" She blinks.

"You avoid my office." He says, his eyes raising to meet hers with the accusation.

She rolls her own, placing her glass down. "Harvey..." She sighs. "I _don't avoid_ your office. I just... **I don't work for you anymore**." She responds calmly.

"I'm _still_ your Boss." He reminds her with a look.

"Harvey...you're the head of the firm. _That's a given._ But it's…" She finds herself shrugging. It's defensive and not her style. "it's just...not the same anymore. Things have changed." She tells.

He nods, seeming to take the words as a quiet blow to his confidence.

"Did they really have to?" He mutters, before looking at her.

"Judging by how much we've both changed, I think you know the answer to that." She says matter of factly, before sliding her legs back onto the carpet below. She picks up her drink, downing the double in one gulp, before standing.

He stands along with her, placing his glass on the small coffee table as she grabs her coat. "Donna,"

"What?" She asks, looking back to him.

"Have dinner with me." He says.

"Harvey," She frowns, pursing her lips together soon after.

" _Just as friends_." He assures her.

There's something in the solidness of his words that stop her impulses dead, where perhaps there might have been some give. She straightens, nearly meeting his height in her higher-than-average heels. She offers him a limp smile. "I can't Harvey. I have a date."

His eyes narrow, his chest puffing out. "At 10.45 in the evening? You have a date? Really? That's the best you got?" He remarks, unconvinced.

It rises her ire, his questioning of her. "Actually," She responds sharply. "I postponed it because of _you_ and Louis. Again. It was meant to be 7.45." She clarifies heavily, watching as he weighs up the legitimacy of her words. She witnesses him settle the truth in her words as gospel, as she slides quietly past him, picking up her bag off of the coat rack. "Goodnight Harvey." She says, bidding her fair well.

"Tomorrow, then." He calls behind her, seemingly not ready to end the conversation.

 _He has her there. It's Wednesday tomorrow. She has no get out._

"Fine." She nods, eyes wide, before gliding out of the building.

 ** _Wednesday comes. He has to reschedule. They all end up working, extracting the latest crisis from their beloved firm. She slips out by nine o'clock and glides to the nearest cab._**

* * *

 ** _You think you're so important to me, don't you?_**

 ** _But I wanted you to know that you don't belong here_**

 ** _You think you're so important to me, don't you?_**

 ** _Don't kill my vibe_**

 _Sigrid 'Don't kill my vibe' (Acoustic Version)_

* * *

 **Zoe Lawford and the 'dateable' women**

He had been cagey about Zoe Lawford. Some how, now, when she looks back, there is a clear pattern.

Minus one night stands, he acts differently with her than he does with the women he openly pursues.

With most of them, he is relaxed, and giving and emotionally ready. _Regardless of the stage of his life._

 ** _Except with her._**

She wonders if she got it wrong all of these years,

If it's all been in her head.

He slept with her, and then asked her to come with him. _Paid her salary. Protected her. For nothing more than being a secretary, and his right hand woman._

Was she just a one-night-stand with work benefits?

She doesn't know. Or doesn't want to know.

She knows one thing, though.

 _She's not a secretary anymore. Or his secretary, for that matter._

She's just a woman, looking at a man and wondering _where exactly_ she got it all wrong.

* * *

 ** _So, she's still dating this guy._**

He's a Structural Engineer. Probably the most boring of jobs. She's not into it, and if she were honest with herself, she's not been into dating for a while.

The only thing is, he's an amazing kisser. _David, the great kisser_ , is how he is listed in her phone.

He's taken her to a trendy bar, after showing her through a historical breakdown of architecture in the city, from the Goldman-Sachs building all the way to the Woolworth Building and Flatiron.

He shows her places that she's ignored for a decade, and it spreads a new energy in the city.

 _She falls in love with New York City all over again. At least he's good for that._

Add to that, a thorough make out session, and Donna Paulsen is half sold on her little dating detour.

They end up at Slate, a hip bar with it's expansive lighting and seemingly 'meat-market' feeling about it, that clashes with the candles on tables and the luminescence of the place.

She's just glad she's not riding solo in the place.

She's had a few cocktails already, and she's loosened up, after a week of hardball. He's mildly attractive, if not a slightly plain dresser, and he's got blue eyes, which she's always had a thing for. He has the kind of hair that would curl in your hands, and hands that could curl you around him. The more she drinks, she starts to wonder if maybe there's more to him that meets the eye.

Whilst her date focuses on more drinks, she breathes a sigh of relief to herself, at the slight transition she's made.

 _Donna Paulsen is moving on_. Albeit, slowly.

Slow progress is **progress** , _just the same._

She's dressed in an Oscar de la Renta black silk lace dress, with a rouched skirt, from Saks, red backed Manolos and her vibrant hair in a high ponytail, giving a slightly futuristic note to her attire, to which the addition of smokey eyes gives a little drama.

She feels younger and freer than she has done in a year, maybe two.

She watches as _David the Engineer_ bends over the counter, his attention firmly on claiming the first free bartender. After a minute or two, her eyes start to wander into the crowd, the mix of ages and styles and professions all mingling in as one.

She loves nights like this, where she finds freedom in the simplest of things, feeling amazing, whilst not too overtly attention drawing, and yet managing to mingle amongst the day old cream of New York City.

She smiles to herself, as a man catches her eye, making his way through the crowd. He looks familiar, and yet she can't seem to pinpoint how she knows him, until an all too familiar form stalks in front of the guy.

His cheekbones sharpen as he notices her, his swagger seeming slightly out of time for a second, until he moves in step with the music once more, giving her a look to indicate that he's surprised she's even here. His skin looks slightly flushed against his tan and usual moles, as if he's been out for a few hours already, his eyes drawing their liquid omniscient-seeming state, as he regards her.

"Out on the town tonight, huh, Donna?" He offers with a slight croon in his voice, smirking, as he stands in front of her. Tom Ford clad like he's running a night time deal.

She rolls her eyes, flicking her attention to her still occupied date, before her eyes move to her Boss's 'man-friend'.

Harvey double takes slightly, introducing them.

"Gerard, this is Donna Paulsen, the Chief of Operations at my firm."

"Haven't we met before?" The man asks, as he extends a welcoming hand.

"I think we might have... _Clerkmann International_?" She picks out of the recesses of her mind as she shakes the man's hand. "The hedge fund?"

"That's the one. You were his Assistant...before?" He queries.

"Yes. I was. _For over a decade_." She says, looking to Harvey for a second, as she notices him narrow his eyes at the shortening of the truth. "But not anymore." She regards them both, hearing the other man laugh awkwardly.

"She always was overqualified for the job," Harvey defends, taking the blow in his stride.

"I can see that," Gerard nods with a interested smile, giving her the once over. If she weren't taken for the night, she'd consider Mr International...

She feels warm fingers press against her back suddenly, as she looks to David, a welcoming if not slightly confused look on his face. "Sorry, David," She says, giving him a smile. "David Sands, this is Harvey Specter, the Managing Partner of my firm," She says, watching Harvey with an eagle eye. "David is... _my date_?"

She watches as Harvey's face falters just a fraction, as he swallows, his chin lifting, as if to overcompensate, as he shakes David's hand, nodding. His slightly pushy friend interrupts before he can say another word.

"That's a shame. I thought you could...join us…" Gerard Clerkmann remarks to her. "Maybe next time?"

She watches Harvey's face turn from awkward to irked in a second.

"Of course Gerard. Have a good evening," She greets, before turning to David.

No more than five minutes later, she has her tongue down her date's throat, half for herself and half for Harvey.

She doesn't notice Harvey, locked in place by his client friend, under a ripple of mermaid-coloured lights, forced to watch the entire thing.

 _With a growing frown on his face, as his fingernails dig into the inside of his fists._

* * *

 _ **Welcome to the inner workings of my mind**_

 _ **So dark and foul I can't disguise**_

 _ **Can't disguise**_

 _ **Nights like this**_

 _ **I become afraid**_

 _ **Of the darkness in my heart**_

 _ **Hurricane**_ _\- '_ Hurricane' By MS/MR

* * *

 **Esther Litt & having it all**

* * *

She had dealt with the 'Esther' situation as well as she had been able. Mostly, because Louis hadn't dealt with it well at all, and then because Louis had very much _overstepped_.

Causing Harvey to lash out. Badly.

That's where she found out.

 ** _He was having panic attacks. He was having therapy._** After her.

Suddenly the words they'd exchanged had been trumped by his real life problems.

They barely talked like that anymore. Open and honest, if not a little one sided.

She was his confidant, no longer.

 _Someone else must have taken over from her. Early than she'd anticipated._

* * *

Late nights in the office were different, now. She spent them alone, in her own office mostly, going over the business and signing off on the kind of things that Harvey didn't have time for. Mostly, she was happy - from a professional standpoint - to take care of what was left. _They still worked like an adequately oiled machine._

However, he had a new assistant, and she mostly ever saw him for matters that were pressing throughout the day, or, on the rare occasion that they crossed paths on their way out of the building.

She had managed to get out of the office a little early tonight, with aching feet and an aching head, she tottered towards the curb outside of her workplace.

A car, with all it's familiar sleekness slid up to the curb where she stood.

She straightens, it's reflective glass withholding the mystique of its precious human cargo, as it comes to a steady stop. The door opens suddenly and out on itself, as she takes a step back, watching Harvey Specter emerge, clad in a day old suit and an expectant expression.

"Fancy a drink?" He offers, the confidence of such an offer sliding off his shoulders like water off a duck's back.

"Harvey, _It's been a long day_ …" She slumps slightly, caught off guard.

 _She's not sure she can deal with whatever he's dealing out today._ She's barely seen him, and she realises, that since they've parted, she dreads the state he comes to her in. So long knowing his every move and mood, he is now an unknown quantity to her when he appears out of the blue like this.

She still ignores the fact that they had spent almost fifteen hour days, six days a week together for nearly fifteen years, without holidays, and excluding their noteable times apart, and have transitioned from that to functional meetings, cordial greetings, and emergencies with at least three or more.

"Donna, come on." He presses on her suggestive nerve, his deep voice bending higher.

"Harvey, I've been in heels for thirteen hours now-" She warns.

"Don't pretend that their aren't a pair of roll-up flats in your bag." He counters. "I was with you when you bought them."

"One, Touche." She says, genuinely impressed. "And two...they're new ones. The old ones fell apart." She bests. His expressions is mixed and potent, and she can't resist his face for longer than three months, she realises.

"Fine." She narrows her eyes at him "One drink." She threatens with a finger, pressing his chest to push him into the limo.

" _Don't say things you don't mean_ ," He smirks.

And it's like no time has passed at all.

* * *

They exit the town car on the corner of of 44th Street and 8th Avenue, as he guides her in a gentlemanly fashion to 'Birdland', a legendary jazz club, boasting the cream of the current jazz scene and the history of jazz to boot. She's heard about the place before, and by the look on Harvey's face, it's not his first time either.

They nod to the bouncer, and she slides into the narrow black fronted door behind Harvey as he paves the way. From the moment they walk into the main bar, the room is awash with tuneful sound. Something moody and effervescent.

Donna sidles up to Harvey as he rests a hand on the bar, their first proper words since she joined him.

"Your Dad...played here. Am I right?" She guess with a smile.

 _The Great Gordon Specter._

 _And God, does she miss that man…_ She can only dream of how much Harvey misses him.

"Yep." He pops the 'p', glancing at her briefly, before looking out to the quintet playing on the red curtain filled stage with a sense of unbridled longing.

She watches as he orders two old fashioned cocktails. There's something so smooth and practised about his action, and yet completely self-centred and ungentlemanly at the same time.

"I guess I'm having an old fashioned, then." She quips, looking to him.

He pauses, giving her a look, before he grabs the bartender's attention. "And a glass of Shiraz, please." He adds.

She leans towards him, too close in some ways, but necessary due to the amount of noise in the room.

"Why am I here, Harvey?" She throws at him, her right elbow landing on the bar, as she slouches slightly.

He turns from his focus, double takes her and the use of 'I' where there would have always been a 'we'. Before he can answer, the bartender has returned with three drinks, and exchanges them for notes and a hefty tip.

He places the red in front of her, and pushes the old fashioned alongside it.

She gives him a look, one than rests between amused and fighting against their natural rhythm.

"You could have asked me what I wanted." She offers lightly.

"Do you have to be in control _all_ the time?" He accuses, causing her to to sputter.

"You're seriously calling **_me_ **the control freak out of the two of us?" She questions, turning it around on him.

" _You never used to be_." He counters, poignantly.

" _ **I never used to be a lot of things, Harvey**_." She adds. There is the weight of their entire relationship in her words.

 _And she bets he can feel every single arrow_.

She ignores the emotive look he gives her in favour of cleaning up half of her red wine in one controlled gulp, allowing the alcohol to settle her nerves, and spread through her body like wildfire.

 _She's an accomplished drinker these days. Being Management will do that to you._

Either that or she's riding on the apex of a breakdown. She doesn't really care much at this point.

"Donna, I," He starts, as she picks up her drinks and moves towards a table.

He sits down opposite her, and she begins to relax somewhat, as the heavy red alcohol hits her gut and spreads a blanket warmth across her abdomen.

" _Again_ , Harvey. **What am I doing here**?" She repeats her earlier 'inquisition'.

"You know," He chuckles tiredly, "You make this more difficult than _anyone_ else that I've ever known," He plants the words, as he raises his drink to his lips.

"Make what difficult?" She frowns.

"You make spending time with you...difficult." He huffs.

"Well, excuse me for being confused as to why you can't schedule time like a normal person." She throws at him.

"Donna." He sighs, shaking his head as if he's trying to rid the heavy expression. "I miss us…. _we're_ …" He pauses, shrugging through the words with a frown.

She doesn't ask him to elaborate. She's so fed up of feeding him words, that now she's taken to staring, eyebrows lifted at the gaps in his through line. She does it at work now, too.

"We're different, somehow. And I...barely see you now." He explains, a definable dent in his mood.

" **Because I'm not your assistant anymore, Harvey**." She says, the obviousness of her statement not lost on him as he gawps at her for a second, before sighing heavily. "It's only natural, that we would... _grow apart_ _if I'm not at your beck and call every minute of the day,_ "

"You really think that's what it was?" He throws back at her, visibly wounded.

They've never been good at throwing mud at one another.

She sighs. **_She's being a bitch and she knows it._ **"I just mean...things have changed, Harvey. I thought you were okay with that?" She questions.

"Yeah well...maybe I'm not. And **you've changed**. More than just a job role." He accuses.

She rolls her eyes at that. "Harvey...I'm the same old Donna." She says. Even she doesn't believe herself anymore.

"No. _You're not_. And I miss that...I miss our dinners. I miss having you there."

"Harvey...it was just a job." She says. he's silent, and all she can think of is to let the train keeping coming. "We blurred the lines when I was your Assistant, and we should never, ever have done that. We became dependant on eachother. And it wasn't healthy. For either of us."

"I don't care, Donna... **I need you**...in my life. You can't just...leave my desk and then act like we're suddenly strangers. _Even Mike's noticed_."

His words are a mixture of soul calming and foundation shaking. She's been trying to avoid this for as long as she can remember and today should not have been the day for it.

She laughs harshly, a truly tired and withering laugh. "You sound like you're in Grade School," She pokes fun at him, before putting on her best kid impression. " ** _I'm mad at you._ _My Best friend says you don't wanna be friends with me anymore_** ," She says, her goofiness causing him to sputter and put down his drink.

"I'm serious. He keeps...insinuating _things."_ He insists.

"Things...like?"

"Things like...he thinks I'm...secretly having an affair with you, or something."

 _ **It hits her like a ton of stones.** _

_She thanks the two drinks he bought for the dutch courage it gives her._

 _Thankfully he hasn't eaten much all day, and doesn't need one of them. She doesn't need anything from him, now._

"Well, we both know he's wrong, don't we?" She says, boldly.

He catches the contradiction in her voice, as his eyes narrow. " ** _What's that supposed to mean_**?"

"If you don't know, Harvey, then I can't help you." She says, looking down at her old fashioned, and then to her red wine, with it's small amount of claret dancing in the bottom of the glass.

" _I don't…_ " He starts, only to look at her, half confused, half seemingly lit by the moment.

She shakes her head, ignoring his eyes as she downs the remaining wine.

"You know," She says, as she rises. "This was a mistake," She tells herself, rising from her seat, with her bag sliding onto her shoulder.

He blinks, as she stalks, leaving the drink he ordered and glides to the bathroom.

 _It's the one place he knows he can't follow._

 _Outside of his glass prison,_

 _She has free reign._

* * *

She sucks in a long, semi-calming breath, her arms bracing her weight against the sink as she ignores her own reflection. _Too scared to know the kind of things it could probably tell her about her life._

 _She should never have come here. She's not ready yet. There are parts of her that she has yet to collect._

She dries her hands with a paper towel, and glances briefly at the glass in front of her, checking her makeup, before preparing to exit the bathroom.

She sucks in a thready breath, and puts on her best 'don't fuck with me' face.

He's casually leant against the wall opposite the women's bathroom like he's some fifties film noir top bill.

She tuts, sliding past him in her heels _that hurt like hell_ and glides out of the club and onto the sidewalk.

She makes it about ten foot before she hears his exasperated calling.

" **Just tell me what I've done**." He calls after her.

She stops abruptly, her head bowing before she turns to face him. By the time she's turned around he's closer than he was, and silently pleading with her to tell him, as his arms flap at his sides.

"You've done nothing, Harvey." She says, feeling her heartbeat begin to race against the rhythmic bass notes pumping out the wall alongside her.

" **Then why are you being like this, Donna**!" He erupts then.

" **Because I'm in love with you**!"

It knocks him, the sheer weight of her words. She blocks out the cold tears that stream down her face, finally letting go of it all. Being brave. Exorcising her right to move on.

"I've been in love with you my entire adult life, and I'm done. I'm tired of it." She says, her lips bending with emotion.

"Donna," He steps forward, only to see her take two steps back.

" _I can't_ be your friend anymore. _I can't_ be your confidant. And I can't be your Girl Friday. And I'm trying to move on, but you're making it _so_...fucking hard…" She chokes the words, before wiping her face.

She doesn't wait for a reply, before hailing a cab.

Half an hour later, she slams her apartment door behind her, turns off her phone, turns off the lights, and puts headphones in her ears to watch a film on her ipad.

She blocks out the world. An hour later she emails Louis and Rachel to say that she's taken a personal day.

* * *

 **Had to chop it into two, because it was just too big a chapter, but really wanted it published before Thursday! - Look out tonight for the second half - A x**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Seven**_

Part Two.

* * *

 _ **I truly am indeed**_

 _ **Alone again, naturally**_

 _ **It seems to me that**_

 _ **There are more hearts broken in the world**_

 _ **That can't be mended**_ _\- 'Alone, Naturally' By Gilbert O' Sullivan_

* * *

 **Stephen Huntley and the straw that finally broke the back that killed the Camel**

 _Stephen was a mistake._ A mistake born out of curiosity, loneliness and sex that reminded her of her youth. _An attempt at filling a void that had started to appear before her very eyes from the moment Louis had repeatedly battering-rammed the words:_

" _ **Do you love Harvey Specter**_?"

From that day on, her world had changed. Altered. And subsequently, she'd been transferred, from the superwoman that worked for the great Harvey Specter, to the woman that was longing for him behind the scenes whilst publicly doing his bidding.

Stephen Huntley was a revolt against the fact, and whilst she was enjoying herself and pissing off Harvey in the process she was filling her own innate urge to get him to recognise what was really possible between them. A win-win, by all accounts.

Three years later, she knows different. _Huntley had been a crimina_ l. And she feels like a fool. Like he used her. Now they both had. The worst thing is, that Harvey's actions speak louder now than all the other men that tried to ruin her. He never really got out of the mindset of her being his aid, a woman that he got to have his cake with and eat others too.

 _And that was her mistake._ Allowing herself to be placed there. Now, years later, she's kicking herself for the man that she thinks he really is.

 _Selfish. Self Serving. A professional sycophant._

Prizing her at the very top, for his own needs, and yet none of hers.

At least Huntley had been a man about it...

* * *

She feels like she has been reborn today. Like her demons have been laid to rest and her deepest darkest secrets are out there, now, lying in the fodder with all of their other past faults.

She thinks about moving, finally. Upgrading her surroundings to suit her new position.

Besides, they fucked in this apartment. Her bedroom is saturated in a night long affair that lasted no longer than a day but reverberated through the walls for well over five thousand days.

At least if she were to move, it would make it harder for him to find her. And given the challenge, maybe he wouldn't even bother.

She knows he won't come for her today. It seems that he's moved on with everything else in his life, except her. She snarls at the thought. After everything that they've been through, it's the least he could do. Apologize for overlooking her. For never just telling her the truth about how he felt. That he didn't love her that way, and that he was afraid if he told her that she would have left long ago.

She sits, with her thick woollen socks on, and a wrap around herself as she sips at her coffee, absent mindedly flicking through garbage-laden daytime television, whilst their grey tinted history runs on repeat.

She's embarrassed at her regurgitating her own feelings. But she knows, they do not define her wholly. Not anymore. She has escaped them for the moment. They now exist in the air, and in the walls and in the memories that don't even hold as much meaning as they once used to.

She remembers her mail, having not wanted to go near the door all morning, until the knowledge of her paycheck surfaces a need in her, scratching at her ego.

She grabs her keys, sliding down the steps to the lobby, and makes her way to the little post boxes on the wall near the entrance.

As she forces the tiny key into the small lock, a hand slams on the glass, making her jump. Her heart skips, as she's confronted, for the second time in twenty four hours, by Harvey's potent stare.

 ** _He looks pissed._**

Her eyes narrow, gathering her wrap around her and her mail under her arm, as she considers leaving him there.

High and Dry.

 _Unless the sky were to break..._

"If you leave me out here, so help me god, Donna, I will BREAK THIS DOOR DOWN!" He shouts at her, his shoulders hunched and his jaw solid.

She gives him a look, which he bests, that pent up aggression he finds so easy to tap into around her, spilling out in his mashed lips and steely stare.

She walks towards the door slowly, removing her letters from under her arm as she straightens, calmly.

"You look like you have some unresolved anger, Harvey." She points out. "Maybe you should see your therapist?" She infers, before her expression hardens. "Oh, wait...you can't. **Because you've been fucking her for three months.** "

She watches the tension drain out of him from his forehead to his feet.

He stands there, not a beat to his argument, except for four simple words. "Donna. Let me in." He says. " _Please_."

She closes the distance, coming close to the glass frame that separates them.

"I can't." She says then, shrugging. " _Not anymore_." She says, feeling the tears start to fall.

"Donna," He calls after her retreating form.

"I'll see you Monday." She calls back, looking forward as not to betray the wobble in her voice.

 _It's a promise. She's not giving up all that her job has given her._

But she'll try her very hardest to keep him at arm's length, until she forgets every single thing that made her fall in love with him in the first place.

* * *

 _ **You love to tear me down, you pick me apart**_

 _ **Then build me up like I depend on you, no**_

 _ **But I throw myself from heights that used to scare me**_

 _ **Guess you're surprised I'm the puzzle you can't figure out - '**_ Don't kill my vibe', By Sigrid

* * *

 **Saying 'I Love You' but refusing to clarify 'how'**

She should have known, by the way he didn't clarify 'how'.

She had played it right, in leaving him that evening, _way back when_. It was the smartest thing she'd ever done.

 _It was everything else after that, that she really regrets._

He didn't _really_ need her. Gretchen didn't _really_ need to be left out of the hard situation with Mike's trial. _It was merely a habit._ An ingrained habitual routine that she had made, of simply wanting to be with him, _always_.

 _The Cactus._

 _The drop-ins._

 _The tentative taking care of his life._

She had been so far in it that she couldn't even see where her soft edges ended and his sharp lines began.

She ignores a call from Rachel. A careful text from Mike.

 _ **They know.**_ They've always known and it breaks her heart threefold. How their two closest friends can see it and yet he still can't.

She wonders if any of them really know Harvey. She wonders if she just...made him up. If she projected this wonderful love-soaked image of a man that didn't really exist in the world.

She cries for the twenty-something version of herself. The one that fell completely in love with his younger self.

She was naive. And foolhardy. She gave up on her life for a man that she's convinced never really wanted her like that in the first place.

She knows one thing.

 _ **She** led him to Paula. _

_Maybe that was her only true function. Her purpose. To lead him to what he most needed._

* * *

She takes an extra day, making it four, nearly five days since she'd seen him last. She asks David on a date that Saturday night, seeing it as the birth of a new kind of weekend for herself.

She invites him over, needing to cleanse the apartment of all Harvey-laden memories. She decides that if that doesn't work, then she'll move to a new place soon after.

The night is filled with laughter, and twister, like they are teenagers. Her phone is off. She receives no unwelcome gentleman callers, or calls of any kind.

She welcomes the man into her bed, and listens to the rhythm of his breathing as he rests between her sheets. She smiles to herself, making a pact with herself to keep this one, for a little while at least.

She spies a shimmer from her windows, and frowns, the pit of her stomach falling. She wonders if she's crazy, until, her robed form spies a sleek black car slide away from her building and down the block.

She wonders if it was a drop off or a pick up, frowning at the worrying possibilities.

* * *

Minutes later, she closes her front door behind herself and pads down the stairs slowly, as not to awake a suspicion on either end, wandering to the lobby in her robe and little very else.

The sadness and anger of a decade worth of romantic complication has awoken a pheonix-like version of herself now. She's pretty sure she could take him, with her pent up frustration alone. _With or without a robe._

She pushes the heavy door open with force, her arms folded over the chinese wrap to secure a little modesty, and huffs at the predictable sight.

"Five years, and it all comes down to is you, once again, hanging outside my door." She says, a disappointment in her voice.

He freezes, opened mouthed at the sight of her, as he pushes off the electrical box he had been leant on, his hands sliding into his pockets as he straightens.

"You naked under there?" He indicates with a nod, his eyes alight with interest.

She responds with an eyeroll, cocking a hip defensively. " _If I was_...it wouldn't be for _your_ benefit." She responds, pressing on the point.

His lips twitch as he takes a step towards her. "We need to talk."

"No, Harvey. We don't." She says simply. "After all these years...I'm done talking about this." She gestures between them. "It is... _what it is_. And what's it not." She feels the impulse to leave. She's finally reached her limit with this beguiling man. Maybe she's starting to see sense.

"I'm sorry. About Paula." He says, chewing his lip.

She blinks, as if time around her pauses.

"Why be sorry? You like her." She shrugs. "Maybe even love her. I don't know _."_ She reasons, trying for nonchalant, but coming off cold. _"_ You went after what you want, Harvey. It is... _what it is._ " Her chin juts out at the fact, her arms hugging herself tighter.

"Will you _ **stop**_ ….saying that?" He barks at her then, frustration peeling out of his core and right at her. "I'm so sick of you throwing this entire situation at me!" He shouts at her, his fingers clenching in an angry gesture.

"Why are you shouting at me?!" She bests then, his aggression rising her own ire.

" **Because you never told me**!" He barks. "You just...say you want more, and when I ask you, actually ask you, **what _the fuck you mean_** , you tell me you don't know!" He spits.

She sees red then, taking a step towards him. "Answer me this. How long was it between me telling you 'I wanted more', and you asking Paula Agard out?" She omits 'Therapist' from her question.

He shuts down then, his face reading silent frustration.

 _But it's only more fuel to the fire in the eyes of Red._

Her back hunches, before she stalks towards him. "Exactly! " She points at him violently. "And you wonder WHY I'm _SO_ …. _ANGRY AT YOU_?!" Her eyes blaze wildly, noticeably tear filled even in the almost darkness. "You didn't even give me _a second_ to figure it out, before you jumped into the arms of another woman." She snarls then, feeling fifteen years of unsaid words falling out of her. "Do you even know what it's like to be _**in love**_ with you? _Do you even get it_? Everyone _sees_ it. Everybody in our lives sees what's going on, **except you**! Do you understand what it's like to be in love with someone that everyone else thinks feels the same, but who only ever shows that they don't, and then genuinely moves on with the **_one person_** _that_ they were meant to be figuring it all out with?!"

"Donna, I..." He stumbles on the words. "I...I love you. I do. I just..."

"Harvey, don't you see! It's not that you're _not_ in love with me. It's that...you didn't even think about the fact that I _might have been_." She sniffs, shaking her head. "And let's face it...You didn't think about it, because it's _inconvenient for you._ And _I_ , stupidly," She pauses, losing her voice in the words. " _Thought_ , that moving on, that getting a promotion, would help. But it's not helping. Because...you want everything the way you want it, you want me how you want me, and now you want to pursue a real relationship with a woman that's not me, but that gave you everything I did, except without the inconvenience. And...I don't want to be a part of it anymore. I diserve more, Harvey." She finishes, her bottom lip trembling as she points to the ground, blinking only to see tears fall at her feet.

 _She misses his calling of her name._

She pauses anyway, just by her door, seeing that he's followed her in those unguarded moments. She continues before he can manage another word.

"Date Paula. Don't date Paula. Marry her, for all I care." She shrugs, finally spent. "You moving on, comes hand in hand with the end... _of this._ And it is the end, Harvey." She wipes her face, shuffling towards her apartment block.

He hasn't moved an inch. There are even the glimmer of tears in his eyes when she looks back. It encourages another thought to escape.

"You know... If you'd have come to me and told me, that you didn't love me in that way, I'd have been upset. But I would have **still been there**...for you." She wipes away the tears. In the moment of darkness that her hands force over her, he's shuffle closer to her.

"Donna..." He encourages.

She sniffs, her final thought seeming to clear her mind. "I do _genuinely_ want you to be happy, Harvey." She sniffs, her face bending. "I _hope_ she makes you happy." She tells him. "And for what it's worth, I met her. Last year? I really liked her." She says, a limp smile appearing before she slips behind the door and away from his advances..

She waits half an hour before she re-enters her apartment, sliding into bed with a man who isn't the infamous Harvey Specter.

* * *

 _Don't know where I am with you_

 _Forgetting time and space with you_

 _Oh, I wish we had a common view_

 _You see my red as blue_

 _I don't belong in your universe_

 _For better or for worse_

' _Dynamite' By Sigrid_

* * *

 **The Therapist**

She thought that Harvey getting a therapist would help him. _Help them._ And yet it spawned it's own problem.

Paula happened. He changed. And she changed. But they didn't change together, they merely grew apart. And now she... _was at a loss_.

 _ **Weren't therapists meant for personal growth?**_

He wasn't meant to fall for her.

Of all the women, even including herself, he was meant to fall in love with Scottie, at the very least.

He didn't even have the courage to tell her. To be honest with her.

Rachel had found out from Mike not long after it had happened, and it had fermented in her gut like rotten fruit.

It hurt, cut like a gleaming knife upon weak skin. The, idea that so soon after she'd taken a promotion, and achieved something for herself, that he'd jumped into bed with the one person that he wasn't supposed to, tore at her. And for once, she had no impulse to tell him.

Until he'd come for her, that is.

For months she stomached her reactions to the information, watching his better spirit and happier mood. The woman had evoked a reaction in him that she had never managed in nearly two decades.

Now, when she looked back, almost a month after Harvey had come to her door, she realised...she should have confronted him _**sooner**_.

Truth was, she didn't want to lose her job and him in the same week.

And that week rolled into the next, and the next, and the next until suddenly she was able to stomach the new way of things.

She knows one thing, though. _She_ got him to Managing Partner. _Not Paula Agard_. She, her, Donna, was instrumental and she should be proud of that. She had gained a promotion for herself, and was no longer a woman of one man's successes. She had a real seat at the table, and a voice that meant something in a firm she'd grown to love.

* * *

She is forty five today.

She had stopped seeing David. It wasn't right. She wasn't ready. It seemed so wasteful on such a good man.

She didn't take the day off, instead kept herself busy with Rachel and Louis and even Mike - in the moments where he had a spare second - and with that, she was confronted with the realisation - _as if she needed another this year_ \- that she may soon be forced - _and not by her own hand_ \- into filling Jessica Pearson's much larger shoes in more ways than one.

 _So much for being 'a woman in power'. It wasn't everything,_ she realised.

And with that, came the knowledge, that maybe she wouldn't find the man of her dreams right now. At least, until she retired. Or changed her priorities. Or got a lobotomy.

She examines herself in the mirror, the lines that have started to appear around her eyes, and the way her hair has seemed to lighten over the years. She's called in her usual favour, the special number, for something lavish and beautiful to make her feel like the ruby in the room on her very special day.

She's chosen an Elie Saab aqua coloured gown, that shimmers like mystical water, drapes across her form with ease and highlights her copper hair to a 't'.

 _She feels good._ Finally stepping forward, out of a decade long shadow and into a spotlight.

Harvey will be there tonight. She had asked Mike to ask Harvey to invite Paula. She's sure he did the exact opposite, but at least she's done what she can. Her and Harvey's relationship is perfunctory, and barely that, at the moment.

According to Mike, he's been quiet, but not ornery. So, at least that's something.

She recieved flowers from her Father today. They match her office, so she's sure that he's been speaking with her Mother. It makes her heart soften, the idea of her family coming together, finally. She needs it. She's going away next weekend to spend a belated holiday with the both of them and her annoying younger sister, who she'll probably try to get parreletic again and tape her to a lamp post somewhere off the I-81, _a late retaliation to her sister drawing something obscene on her forehead the Christmas before_.

She breathes in, readying herself.

It's her party. And Harvey will be there. Maybe she'll cry, if she wants to…

* * *

 _ **You're as safe as a mountain,**_

 _ **But know,**_

 _ **That I am dynamite**_ _… - 'Dynamite' By Sigrid_

* * *

She walks out of the lobby and notices...barely anybody. She double takes the relatively quiet space. _She's sure she was meant to meet them here. At eight pm sharp?_

She checks her phone.

 _No messages. No people._

She walks to every empty office, before she finally and rather reluctantly descends on Harvey's door.

She notices a message written on a post-it.

It merely reads 'Roof.'

She frowns immediately. Any notion of Harvey helping out with her birthday sends a mixture of dread and solid despair to fill the air around herself.

She climbs two flights of stairs in high heels, before she manages to find the large storm-safe door. She cranks the handle, pushing it outward onto the most beautiful night sky,

And a tall man stood alone and waiting.

She frowns, noticing a garden bench, and two small outdoor lamps.

"Hey Donna." He says. She notices his face, frozen in concentration.

"Harvey...where is everybody?" She asks him, thoroughly confused.

"They'll be here soon. They're giving us a moment. _To talk_."

"Harvey, I don't know if you've noticed...but it's my Birthday." She reminds him. "I don't want to talk. I want to celebrate."

"Believe me, Rachel has a real night planned for you. But, first." He insists. " _Please_?" He infers the bench behind him.

"Harvey," She pops a hip, sighing.

She's so tired of them. But this scenario is different, somehow. She can feel it.

"Please just..sit down? I have things I really need to tell you."

"Okay..." She nods then, walking past him and to the bench. She looks down at it, frowning at it. _God knows how much dirt is on this thing, and its a five thousand dollar dress..._

He's behind her in second, "Let me," He says, his tuxedo jacket sliding off his shoulders, the inside silk material falling down onto the hardwood. "Sit." He offers.

She looks at him, wide eyed, as she sits. "Thankyou." She says, taking in a breath to calm herself. She's glad it's summer, her thin shawl providing the smallest amount of relief from the slight wind.

For a moment, she's caught up in the romance of the night sky, as she glances upwards. She supposes, looking at the coppery sparkles amongst royal blue, that this is the only type of romance she's getting for a while.

She hears him clear his throat as he appears beside her.

"Okay." He says. "Where to start..." He manages, his face searching for the words. "I have... _another_ therapist. A guy, this time. I _don't_ feel the need to hit on him, so that's good. And...I broke up...with Paula. Or, we parted ways, is more accurate." He watches as her face masks the slight interest in her face. "Turns out, she was waiting for me to figure it all out anyway. _She was strange like that_ , I guess." He sighs, taking a beat on the fact.. "Before she left, she reminded me, that _**you**_ were the **one thing** that I avoided talking about. In my sessions? Every time, apparently. But she couldn't work out 'why', specifically. _She told me to think about that._ And I think...that...I've always known why, _deep down_."

The mere mention of his now ex-therapist-girlfriend-whatever rises a distaste into her mouth that she's not proud of. "Harvey, it's my birthday, can we not? _You really don't need to do this._ It's fine. It's in the past." She recoils, feeling the burn of his words even before they've begun.

"No, Donna, I _really_ need to." He insists, his eyes glazing, then. "Even if we just...I _need_ you to know why I avoided talking about _you_." He insists, before gathering himself. "I figured out...that... _ **I was in love with you**_, but I was scared of losing you, because you're...my... _lifeline_...Donna. My world doesn't work without you in it, and _I can fill it with all the beautiful things that catch my attention_ , and they even distract me, _for a while_...but... **the absence of you**...just...it gets me." He says, taking in a breath. "I didn't know what to say, when you said you wanted more, and then you couldn't answer, and I think...I ran, into the arms of the only other person that I connected with like that, because...honestly...I... _I'd rather lose a hundred women like her, than lose_ _ **one**_ _like_ _ **you**_."

"Harvey," She swallows, her mouth dry on her birthday, despite Mike's promise of free flowing liquor. She blinks, several times, at the way he looks at her.

Honest.

Unbridled.

Glassy eyed and open hearted.

 _ **Finally.**_

"I am _**so**_ in love with you, that seeing you at work, looking at me the way you look at me now, it...just... _kills_ me." He pauses, only to take her hand. Both are shaky, interlinked and insubstantial somehow. "All I've become, I _became_ because **you** were _right there_ with me, every step of the way. And I needed you _**so much**_ that I sacrificed your happiness just to keep you there." His face bends, as he lets in another breath. "And I can't make up for that. _I know_ I can't. But I have to believe that one day, you'll let me be a part of your life in the way that _I_ _**need**_ _ **to be a part of your life**_."

 **' _If I lay here_**

 ** _If I just lay here_**

 ** _Would you lie with me_**

 ** _And just forget the world?_**

 ** _Forget what we're told_**

 ** _Before we get too old_**

 ** _Show me a garden_**

 ** _That's bursting into life_**

 ** _Let's waste time_**

 ** _Chasing cars_**

 ** _Around our heads'_**

"I," She says, a reflex to her being silent this entire time.

"Please let me finish, Donna." He pleads, his face bending, like it might break if she were to properly interrupt him.

"I thought you _were_ finished." She responds awkwardly, overcome by it all.

"You asked me how I love you? Well...I love you **_all the way_**." He pauses, gesturing to their surroundings. "And _not_ sharing all of this with you anymore, leaves a hole...inside me that no other person can ever fill." He gulps, swallowing the sentiment as a tear graces each eye. "Believe me...I have tried." He promises her. " _And I'll wait, Donna._ As long as it takes, for you to believe me."

"Harvey," She whispers, trying to hold herself together.

" **I'm so sorry. For everything**. I'm grateful for you and everything that came with that. And even if you break my heart right here, right now, that won't ever change." He nods, his bottom lips quivering slightly.

She's crying now, in streams of tears. _On her forty fifth birthday._ She looks away, just to stem the tears that are running freely just to match his.

She's only ever seen him cry three times.

 _This is the fourth time._

"Well...I'm glad you didn't invite everybody else to this." She jokes.

"Oh, believe me when I say, that I had to tell it all to Rachel first before she agreed to play along. She was.. _very angry_ at me." He remarks.

She half chuckles then, carefully wiping her eyes. "I'll bet."

They take a moment of silence, and it's only when she looks back at him that she can see how his entire world hinges on her reaction.

"Donna...say something." He pleads, running a hand through his hair.

"Harvey...after that...I need... _some_...time." She insists, matter of factly.

 _ **If she were honest with him, she needs at least two continuums worth...**_

"Please don't make me wait too long." He breathes the words, rushed, and the urge raw in his cracked voice.

"I'm not…" She clarifies, closing her eyes. "I just...I need some time...to process all of this." She explains delicately.

He sighs heavily, nodding as if he expected her to say that. "Okay." He replies, quietly, his free hand sliding up to press at his temples.

 _He is so fragile with her in that single moment, that it breaks the cool casing from her heart in one fail swoop._

She does something she's never done before. She leans forward, her hands sliding against his slightly moist cheeks, but maintains a firm and emotionally safe distance. "I _had_ begun to doubt it. All of it. So...I'm grateful, if that's how you really feel." She tells him. "I didn't need to hear it, if it wasn't true _but_...it helps...if it is." She sighs, looking into his eyes, before her hands slide back into her lap. "Makes me feel less like a crazy person." She admits, her trademarked quirk of awkwardness framing her tone as her eyebrow twitches.

"Well...you always were a _little_ crazy." He adds to the contrary, causing her to regard him, a sarcasm flashing in her eyes.

"Yeah," She says, nudging him. " **Crazy about you** , _you ass_." She plays, the truth of the fact not lost on him.

He chuckles, smirking in that way that he does when he tries to overcome her natural charm.

"Is that enough 'sharing of feelings' for you?" He asks then, his usual gussy closing around his gaping wound of an admission to her.

"Yeah," She muses, suddenly characterful. "Yeah, I think that makes up for at least the last….mmmmm…. _ **fifteen years**_?" She offers blankly.

"Why, thank you, m'lady." He remarks. _"Clean slate_?" He offers back, a cheekiness peeking out.

"Oh-ho no. Not at all." She shakes her head, giving him a playful look as she loops her arm underneath his, sitting flush beside him. "I nearly got rid of my apartment because you teinted the very memory of it." She offers, earning a shocked look from him. "So I wager, _four dinners, three lunches_ , at all my favourite spots." she breathes "And _several_ breakfasts, made by your _fair_ hand."

"Well, we both know you can't cook for shit, so... _ **deal**_." He counters, turning to her for a moment, his lips twitching as he bends his head closer to her ear. "Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?"

"I still have one of your credit cards, so, it's all on you, Mister." She plays, looking to him.

"For what it's worth, Happy Birthday, Donna." He says, his expression softening.

"It's worth it." She smiles at him.

It's her first real smile in six months. For better or for worse.

She's still protective, not wanting to run into their altered state, as she resists the urge to give him everything in one fail swoop.

 _But he seems to understand that, without so much as a word._

 _Sometimes therapists do work._

"Shall we?" He gestures, pointing in the vague direction of the steel door, and her supposed party.

" _Lead the way_ , Harvey Specter." She offers, watching him as he watches her right back.

"With pleasure, Birthday Girl." He smirks, his eyes twinkling in a way that they haven't for a long while.

* * *

 _ **It's not the end. It never is, right?**_ _As always please feed the kitty. :-) A __

 _It reminds me of another similar work of mine. So I may add a second chapter if I can find the words just to change it up._


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note:**

 _Big Loves to everyone who's reviewed._

 _Bit of a Tone change here._

 _I think this season is going to set the Darvey ship on sail or on fire..._

* * *

 **Seven.**

 **Book Two:**

* * *

There were three obstacles for Harvey and Donna to work through.

* * *

 **Obstacle 1 - Getting to know each other as 'more than'**

They had fallen into bed together, the first time. _The Other Time._

Everything else after that had been an unnatural action and then a stifled reaction. Like two magnets drawn together and repeatedly pulled apart, either by their own hand or someone else's. But always fitting, in end.

They had well and truly paid for nearly fifteen years worth of repressed and unresolved sexual tension.

Not that this was about sex, or _solely_ about sex.

Apart from Harvey's constantly vivid dreams, they hadn't so much as crossed a line in all that time. They hadn't touched, of course, or even shared affection in any other ways then actions, physical gestures and _words_.

 _Heartfelt_ words.

But now, the court was open.

The game had begun.

Match.

Point.

* * *

 _ **No more standin' there beside the walls  
I done got myself together baby  
And now I'm havin' a ball  
As long as you're groovin'  
There's always a chance**_

 _ **Everybody's groovin' on like a fool  
But if you see me spread out and let me in  
Baby just party high and low  
Let me step into your erotic zone  
Move it up  
Turn it 'round  
Oooo shake it down**_

'Gotta give it up Pt.1' by Marvin Gaye.

* * *

 **Part Three**

Fact - _Donna blushes when she dances._

He's always had the moves, been considered 'a mover' on the dance floor. Yet, he has spent most of their time together seemingly avoiding the urge to dance with her.

She used to observe him with Jessica, with her vivacious presence and unbridled confidence, watch them tear up the dance floor step by step, and wonder, even back then, if she could ever keep up with him like that.

Donna Paulsen is a Queen on the stage, but a wallflower when it comes to being confident with the rhythm. It's never been her forte _or her passion_ , but over the years she's learnt to let loose...just a little.

Turns out that with Harvey, all she needed to do was have a drink, relax, trust in herself and let him take control - for once. She finds a smile bubbling up from her chest to her eyes as he takes her hand, twirling her confidently in a circle before his other hand slides back to her waist, pulling them them back together as they swing to the rhythm. It is intoxicating, being led across the polished wooden floor, the lights rippling around them. They are flush together now, his breath brushing along her temple as her hands slide up the panels of his chest and tuck into his shirt collar. She feels his eyes on her again, as she peers up at him through a flutter of eyelashes.

 _She's tipsy_

 _And completely in love with the man who has been very carefully looking after her for the past few hours._

She's still a little dazed by him, those liquid browns that keep looking at her like she's the only person in the room.

He bends down, his voice low and calmly. "You havin' fun there, Birthday Girl?" He asks her.

Her mouth bends into a secret smile, as she slides a hand across his right cheek.

"The _best_ time." She compliments, as he smiles back at her, gathering her up to press against him.

They haven't kissed yet.

She been very careful to avoid that,

And he's been the perfect gentleman.

 _It's agonizing_. But she made a commitment to herself, first.

She's not delusional. She knows that there will always be part of him that will remain a little flippant in relationships, much like she will always struggle not to counsel his life at every opportunity. But they are at the apex of things now, and she doesn't want it to be overlooked like they had both done with other relationships.

She leans against him, her suddenly wet lips brushing against his neck. She feels him straighten, giving her his best attempt at feigned surprise.

" _Are you trying to come onto me_ , Miss Paulsen?" He accuses, before his eyebrows chart an expression with an altogether different intention.

She shrugs, pouting. "What?" She says, before bringing him close against the drowning of sound that flows around them. "Can't you kiss a man-friend on the neck, nowadays?" She offers, a comically confused look on her face.

He erupts into a titter of laughter at that, reminding him of her ability to catch him with her comic timing, and leans towards her, whispering to her. "Let's go get you a drink," He decides, disconnecting from her as he tugs her gently by the hand and back through the heavy crowd. Their fingers interlink, and she feels a shiver run up her arm.

She ends up at the bar, where Mike and Rachel lounge effortlessly. She watches as Harvey motions to Mike to join him, as Rachel slides up to her, her smile so wide she thinks it could meet at the back of her head.

" _Hey Donna_ ," She sing songs, giving her friend a rather candid look. "Having fun?"

She pulls her younger friend into a hug, her alcohol addled state softening in the arms of her best friend. "Thank you for tonight, Rach," She says. " _Really_."

Dinner had been lovely, at Aquavit, a Scandinavian restaurant of the highest order - _that had met Harvey's immediate seal of approval when they had spied it being opposite the New York Ferrari dealership, immediately occupying the men_ \- followed by short walk to a hotspot for dancing and frolics. She had been bowled over by Rachel's thorough planning, and as ever, her attention to detail.

"You're 'really' welcome." She greets. "I'm just glad you're having _fun_." She says, rather more pointedly than she would usually.

Donna straightens, looking relaxed and rather coy.

"I don't know what you're referring to," She offers coolly, before a devilish smile slides onto her face.

"Have you... _kissed him_ yet?" Rachel asks the redhead.

"No." She says reluctantly. "We're taking things….slow." She explains, nodding to plant the point.

"Mmm-hmm' Rachel replies, tongue in cheek and unconvinced by the older woman's words.

Donna looks back at her friend, their eyes charting a silent agreement between them both, before they notice two arms flicking out into the air in the middle of the dance floor, chasing the beat with a tad more enthusiasm than the rest of the dancers that surround him.

Donna frowns, her face bending with amusement as she examines Louis Litt, hot, sweaty and raging the dance floor, his tux askew and his tie hanging at his collar. "How is he _not_ gay…." She offers.

"I have no idea. Personal choice?" Rachel quips, chuckling at the sight.

"Persistence?" Donna offers.

"No you're right, it's definitely persistence." Rachel agrees, before looking to her friend.

Donna laughs at that. Rachel's grown confident and cheeky in her formative years.

Funny thing is, they'd love Louis regardless. Gay, Straight, or just pure Louis.

With almost perfect timing both men arrive with two bottles of champagne. She notices Mike has somehow been stuck with both of the buckets.

Donna gives Harvey an unimpressed look, a hand popping on her hip, to which he bests her, a smirk sliding across his face into a grin as he leans into her. " _He insisted_." He says, only half convincing.

"Actually," Mike chimes in. "This is punishment because I called him ' _old_ '."

"Ah." Donna says then, looking to Harvey.

" _Prostate joke_ ," Mike adds, earning a laugh from Rachel, a good natured glare from Harvey and a snigger from Donna.

" _Mike_ ," Donna chides, a weak reprimand in her tone.

" _Well_ , before that I used to accuse him of calling **_you_** every time he went to the bathroom. But I'm losing my material _now_ so..."

"Oh Mike… _don't let_ _ **us**_ _stop your rhythm_." Donna smirks.

"Before the comedian brings out his best material, shall we find our table?" Harvey offers, looking to his friends.

"Good idea." Rachel chimes in. "Should we maybe...tell Louis?" She offers, pointing to the dance floor.

All four look out to the sight of Louis, sweating in a euphoria of his own making, a large circle of space between him and the other dancers as he hops repeatedly on the spot.

"How much has he had to drink?" Rachel asks as they look on.

"Not _that_ much," Mike muses, frowning a little.

"Let's let him... _find us_." Harvey proposes pointedly, as they retreat away from the sight of their obtuse yet loveable friend.

They settle at a table in the _VIP section_ \- Harvey's used to being accommodated when he goes out, except for those rare occasions where he wants a hassle free night and omits his name - boasting a well proportioned corner section with enough seating for everybody _and then some_. He leaves out that Mike could have ordered the bottles to be sent to their tables, a wicked streak in his otherwise unblemished behaviour.

Harvey gestures to Donna to move forward and sit in the middle, flanking her, as Rachel and Mike mimic them, Mike placing the buckets on the table, only to lean forward and pour a few glasses worth of champagne, before handing them out bar one.

Donna notices Harvey slide a fraction towards her, their elbows touching. She looks up and notices his lips twitch.

"You okay?" He asks, noticing her interest in him.

She smiles, readjusting any sign of her relaxed state, as she straightens in her seat.

"I'm good. Are _you_ okay?" She asks, raising one perfectly sharp eyebrow.

"Are you drunk?" He asks her then, his head tilting.

"Why? Are _you_ trying to _get_ me drunk?" She asks, inferring a blanch against his character.

He gives her a look then, a more serious reaction to her playful jibe. "It's your birthday. You're _supposed_ to get drunk."

"You know I can drink you _under the table_ , Specter." She throws at him, picking up her champagne with gussy.

"Why when you say that to me, does it sound like _**so much more**_ than getting drunk?" He asks her, his eyes twinkling.

She laughs then, a blush creeping up her neck, causing her to take a moment over his bold statement. "Because your mind is perpetually in the gutter?" She offers.

"I always attribute him to being like a dirty stain...on a pure white sheet." Mike chimes in then, adding himself to their conversation as Rachel quietly sips her drink.

"Well, we can't all be virgin's _like you_ , Mike." Harvey jibes, besting his friend, who gawps at him, before inferring Rachel, his other half, beside him.

"I think the lady will vouch against your insinuation, counsellor." Mike counters, giving Harvey a look of contest.

Harvey leans forward, slightly over Donna, in order to include them all. "I didn't say _what kind_ of virgin,"

That throws the group, with Donna and Rachel making faces after sputtering into their champagne, and Mike breaking into an inappropriate bout of laughter.

Donna shakes her head at Harvey, "Only solidifying my point earlier."

" _And Mine_." Mike adds.

"Oh come on, what is this, 'Give Harvey a hard time- _time_?'" He asks, rolling his eyes.

They laugh once more, as he shakes his head and leans back, his arms folding over themselves.

Donna leans towards him, her left hand sliding around his shoulder as she connects her eyes with his. "It's a good thing you're pretty." She tells him, giving him a piteous look.

He tries at annoyance for about two seconds, before their eye contact brings out a soft expression in him.

"Okay, my beautiful fiancee," Mike says, cutting their moment by standing up with a slightly comical looseness about him. "I'm suitably drunk enough to take you out onto the dancefloor,"

"Okay then," Rachel says, smiling to Harvey and Donna, before regarding her other half. "Let's both go watch you make an ass of yourself." She offers.

Mike gives her a wounded look, before his arms drag her towards the moving lights and questionable music.

Suddenly; Louis rips past Mike, his hand grasping at the last full glass of champagne. "Oh my God, I'm _so_ thirsty." He remarks, looking towards Harvey and Donna for a second as Donna straightens into a neutral posture. "Did you guys see me out there?" He asks excitedly.

Harvey sighs, smirking between Donna and Louis. "Oh _**we saw you**_ Louis, in all your reigning glory." He remarks, indulging the man.

"Where did you guys get to? I've been looking for you everywhere?" Louis asks, still trying to catch his breath as he sits down beside Donna.

"Oh Louis," Donna smiles. "We're not all built for the dancefloor, _like you_ ,"

He looks to her, gawping at the mere suggestion. "Oh Donna, with legs like that, you could seductively dance the night away," He compliments, something glistening in his eyes that causes Harvey to sit a little straighter in response. "Don't think I haven't seen your elizabethan couples dancing." He reminds her, earning a thoroughly entertained look from Harvey.

 _They can both see where this is going..._

"But Louis, watching **_you_** out there," Donna adds, indulging him deliberately and laying it on thick. "You really…' _Litt up_ '...the dancefloor." She adds, ignoring Harvey almost choking on his own glass of champagne.

Louis smiles, pointing at Donna. " _ **That...is going on a mug**_ ," He decides, pouring himself another glass that he downs in two. "Care to join?" He offers, holding out his hand to Donna.

Harvey watches Donna, as she visually recoils, only to cover it with a smile. "Oh Louis...I'd see it as **_more_** of a birthday gift, to see you tame the dance floor _all by yourself_."

He pauses for a second, reading her face before he takes her nearest hand, kissing it dramatically. "As the lady wishes," He bows, before gliding back out there.

She sighs, relaxing only as he disappears into the crowd once more.

"My god, you really _do_ have a way with him, don't you." Harvey chuckles, disbelief on his face.

It occurs to her, that Louis is only ever his softest self when they're alone. Otherwise it's antagonistic Louis, or desperate Louis, in front of Harvey in particular.

She turns to Harvey. "That's the first time you've seen that, isn't it?" She clarifies.

"Yep." Harvey smirks, popping the 'p'.

"You know how many of 'those moments' you owe me?" She indicates towards Louis's retreating form.

"What?" He scoffs. "That wasn't for my benefit!"

" _How many_ ," She straightens, her eyes widening.

She watches his mind turn, as he calculates the fact that she is sitting here, alone with him, and might perhaps not have been had she not offset the named partner.

"A few?" He offers coyly.

" _ **A lot**_." She says, elbowing him gently in the side.

He smirks, sidling up to her, then, as the penny drops. "Hey," He says his cheekbones sharpening.

"Hey," She repeats, smirking back at him.

"Thankyou." He tells her. "For all those times that you _ **did**_ deal with him, _for me_."

"You're welcome." She smiles, before looking back out there and into the crowd. "Fact is, he's not that hard to disarm." She says frankly, before stealing a look at him that reads a playfulness. "You, on the other hand, have been my full time job...until you weren't any more."

"For what its worth...I'm glad we aren't _directly_ working together anymore."

"Why's that?" She asks, indulging him.

"Well...it means we can set _new rules_ , with us, now." He says.

"Oh, so there's an 'us' now, is there?" She plays, not giving him the rope.

"I'd like there to be... _an 'us'_." He says, giving her that look again.

"Hmm." She hums, drawing a long breath, it seeming cooler in her lungs than any of the others she's taken before it. "I like the sound of that." She says, looking up at him.

His head bows, being a fraction taller than her sitting down. "I really want to kiss you."

"Weren't we taking this slow?" She says, swallowing and catching herself.

"I am...trying." He admits. "But you're beautiful...and suddenly I'm all out of restraint." He admits, his pupils dilating somewhat.

She opens her mouth, only for the words to be void there.

He pauses, a blanket laugh falling out of him. "You're speechless. For the first time, you're actually speechless." He accuses, distracting them both.

"I don't know if you've noticed at all, but I...am... _rather_ drunk," She defends.

"No...you….have _**no**_ words." He accuses, thoroughly entertained by her silence.

" _You_ have no words," She bests, a limp defence as she struggles to retain her ground.

"You're right," He sputters. "You **are** drunk." He states smiling widely.

"Why are _**you**...not_ drunk?"

"Because...I want to make sure that you're okay, on your one special day of the year." He reasons.

"Ugh….I love you." She says, making a face.

"Wow. That was so heartfelt," He jibes, smirking. _He knows she's drunk_. "And I love you too. Although I'm sure I'll have to say it a few more times for you to really believe me."

"I'm not trying to be a prude about it, Harvey, I just-"

"Donna. I get it." He interrupts. "It's your birthday, and the last thing you want to do is fall into bed with me, after all this time apart."

"Oh, believe me it's the _exact opposite_. I…."

"You….what?" He asks, a look of held interest in his eyes.

"Are you seriously going to make me say it?" She remarks, a harsh humour in her voice.

"Say what?" He bests, quirking an eyebrow of challenge at her.

"Right now, all I want to do is rip your clothes off... _with my teeth_. But…" She pauses, as he laughs in a bout of slight self consciousness. "I made a deal with myself that _we_ would... _let this be_. Let it settle, first. Because if it goes badly, or ends or doesn't even start at all in the first place, then I know I've at least not rushed over it."

"You really think this isn't going to...go well?" He frowns.

"Harvey, the last time we touched, apart from now, was nearly fifteen years ago, and although I am sure I've been... _in love with you_...most of that time, that doesn't mean that what we had back then is what we have now."

"Well, I'd like to think it's _more_ than what we had back then,"

"And I'd agree, but there is a very big difference between two people who slept together over a decade ago, and two people who since then have worked together and have been _just_ friends and colleagues."

"Donna. We were _**never**_ been just friends. _Or_ colleagues."

"No...we've always been a... _grey area_." She clarified.

"A grey area is better than just friends." He notes. "Or colleagues," He repeats, a distaste for the words hanging in his mouth.

"Really? Because from where I'm sat, it looks like the tip of the iceberg to me." She shrugs.

"Look Donna, _I know_...that maybe I've...made you feel like the idea of us wasn't...possible. I get that...I just want you to know that...I'm attracted to you... _a lot_. And I love you. And you know me, better than I know myself, and...that means enough for me to gamble what we _already have_ , on something more."

"God damn it," She moans then, bending into his side with a drunkenness.

"What's wrong?" He frowns, confused for a moment as he looks to her.

"Why are you suddenly **_so_ **emotionally mature?" She whines, scrunching up her face in frustration.

He smiles then, his hand tilting her chin towards him so that her eyes connect with his. "Because I lost you once. And I...can't let that happen again."

She swallows. _There it is again._

She wants him to kiss her all the way into the following morning.

"Now...will you let me take you home?" He asks.

"I'm drunk, aren't I?" She frowns, the truth of her words becoming evident.

"Just a smidge." He smirks, indicating with his finger before encouraging her to stand.

"What about our friends?" She asks, looking out to the dancefloor.

"I'll text them. Let them know that you're stinking drunk."

" _ **You**_ did this to me. With the declaration, and the crying and the...I even haven't eaten today, I was _so_ worried,"

"About what?" He pauses.

"That you'd... _be_ at my party," She blurts out, her expression charting the day. "And now you're here, and loving me, and holding me and... _ **I can't**_ ,"

"Okay, beautiful, let's find your coat." He resolves, encouraging her forward.

* * *

She feels like a freshly born fawn, struggling with the complexities of walking, after consuming more than she had realised until she'd sat up. Harvey holds her waist, pressing her into a cab as she plops onto the backseat, listening to Harvey ream off her address like it's suddenly imbedded in his mind. She narrows her eyes, wondering if he had to learn it, or if Ray told him. Or if he had prepared for it.

Suddenly lucid questions are falling out of her drunkenness. It's then that she realises that she's not dealing with this change very well at all, when his hand grabs at her waist to hold her upright.

"Well, this is doing nothing for my sense of female empowerment." She grumbles, as she hears him chuckle.

"If it makes you feel better, drunk you is _adorable_." He adds, watching her.

"Liar." She says, her eyes narrowing at him.

"It sounds cruel to say, but it's actually nice to see you _**not**_ dealing, for a change." He admits.

"That's not true. **I'm Donna**. _I'm the dependable one_." She says, countering his remark.

"You are. But maybe...we _both_ need to learn to depend on me sometimes, too?" He offers, pushing a piece of her hair off of her shoulder.

"But it's not your job, Harvey. Your job is to close shit. And be a badass." She remarks, a looseness as her head bobs with the words. " _Not as good a badass as me, but…_ "

"Well, I learnt from the best," He agrees, smiling at her flippant demeanour.

"Ugh," She says, sighing. "There you go again... _being wonderful_."

"Donna," He says, his hand touching her waist.

She regards him, feeling slightly unfocused. "What, Harvey?"

"Just relax."

"Are you going to kiss me?" She asks, a slight alertness about the moment catching at her.

"Yes, Donna Paulsen, birthday girl and ruiner of moments, I'm going to kiss you now." He remarks, before his lips slide over hers.

Her shoulders slump a little, as her hands slide to his collar, folding over the edge of material. What starts as a simple kiss, soon deepens, with their tongues sliding against one another's, and a moan escaping from her.

Harvey's the first to pull away. It shocks Donna, whose face becomes confused again, for a moment, as she rides on the slightly effervescent feeling coursing through her veins.

He looks to her, tilting his head as his lips twitch at the ends. "You said you wanted to wait. Right?" He offers then, before sliding his fingers against hers.

She sighs, disappointed at his resolve. "Yes." She says, looking out the cab.

 _She's never pretended to be anything other than what she is: A complicated woman in love with a usually uncomplicated man._

* * *

They arrive at her apartment ten minutes later, as he leads her out of the cab and onto her street, still holding her hand as he waits by her side, as she fishes around for her keys in her purse.

Eventually she opens the door, as they glide, mostly aided by him, towards the elevator. He presses the small square button until it lights up red.

She feels his eyes on her as they stand, waiting for the few floors to pass in the metal box.

"Did you enjoy your birthday?" He asks her.

"Yes. I did. _Thank you_." She smiles, leaning into him.

"You're welcome." He says softly.

In a matter of moments, they are stood outside her door.

* * *

The place where _it_ started.

The door is a different colour now, darker, and the letters seemingly brassier than they used to be.

But it's the same place. All the same old memories and regrets and problems and outcomes.

She notices Harvey's hand tighten in hers for a moment, encouraging her to look up at him.

He looks at her seriously, his eyes growing slightly wider as he takes her in. " **I should go**." He says, letting go of her hand.

The words hit her like lead.

She nods, taken aback at his words as if they've suddenly been swept back two years. Drawing a breath, her hand fishes for her front door key.

"Donna," He mumbles beside her, watching this evolving urgency in her fingers as she forces her key into the lock.

She feels a hand on her, through her coat, as he repeats her name, harder this time. "Donna,"

And like a flash, suddenly all their past moment align themselves.

She swallows, trying hard not to think beyond the moment, and drops her bag, turning to him and grabs his neck at the collar of his thick wool coat, and allows her lips to crush against his. He takes a step back for balance, his hands sliding into her coat to find her hips and press them together. She sucks at his tongue, her lips swollen and their breath mingling with an immediacy that could like them on fire.

She feels him groan, lower in his throat as he deepens their kiss, their heads tilting to accommodate one another as his lips match hers. His hands slide up the back of her dress as her fingers ghost over the sharp panels of his cheekbones.

She's never physically wanted anyone so much in her entire life.

And his reaction is enough to bring about an avalanche in her,

 ** _Bring everything tumbling down around them._**

* * *

 ** _Having you tonight_**

 ** _I will, when you're unbound_**

 ** _Oh, there's something inside that stirs when I see you_**

 ** _When you're on the down_**

 ** _I'll nurse you back to pieces_**

 ** _Looking back tonight_**

 ** _I said, I said, I said.._**

 ** _I'll find your missing pieces_**

 ** _I'll love you back to pieces_**

 _'Unbound'_ by Cathedrals.

* * *

Thought i'd be a devil and leave it on a cliffhanger. ;-)


	4. Chapter 4

Dedicating this to iwonderifyouwonderaboutme & faxwhispering because they have been instrumental in letting me vent my pure distaste for season seven and my worries for the future of my two favourite characters.

 _And obviously, to all the fans that are as lost in the plot as I am right now…._

* * *

Warning: This chapter is a little spicy, near an M-rating ( _Trust me, over the years I've written these two in_ _ **so many**_ _positions that I could practically release a 'Darvey Karma Sutra colour-by-numbers' ebook if I was really low on the dough… :faceplant:_ )

Also, I've wanted to shake it up. I've written dates and casual dating before so I need to bring something else to the table.

* * *

Book 2, Part 2. 

_**Setting Boundaries and a Game plan.**_

 _Forty Eight Hours earlier._

* * *

Harvey Specter felt like shit. _Pure reheated in the sun baked to a crisp shit._

Breaking up with people was emotionally taxing, and even if you felt focused on the decision, it still managed to leave you with a searing pain in your chest, on exit.

He still maintains,

 _Having feelings isn't everything._

After all, Paula _had_ been good for him. He _had_ loved her. They had _had_ something. But he had also learnt, that some things replicated in the place of 'other' things can only replace them for so long.

It doesn't make the situation better. It makes both situations worse.

 **He….was** _ **in love**_ **with Donna Paulsen. He still is.**

And he had been for a very long time. So much so, that it had reared it's ugly head with every delicate step she had taken away from him.

 _First,_

 _With the promotion._

And the calling him out on his shit.

Then the third time, with that key of his, that she'd given back with only the most virtuous of reasons - _so he could give it to Paula._

And then, by a prolonged and obvious distancing of herself from all important areas of his life.

 _No Drinks._

 _No late nights and shitty Thai food that he secretly loved._

 _No shopping. No breakfasts._

Until finally, the walls around their lake of a situation had crumpled under the weight of her, Pheonix like and finally forthcoming emotionally on her side, until the waters ran from blue to red.

When it came to her,

 _He wasn't smart._

He loved her.

He had taken her for granted.

And he owes Paula for allowing him to see that.

Now he knows...within his core being, that his feelings for Donna can no longer be caged, no matter how hard he tries.

He rises out of his town car, a vibrant beat playing in his chest.

 _ **Now it's time for him to get the girl.**_

 _First stop,_

 _Is to win over the best friend._

 _And maybe his own one in process…_

* * *

 ** _I know the score like the back of my hand_**

 ** _Them other boys, I don't give a damn_**

 ** _They kiss on the ring, I carry the crown_**

 ** _Nothing can break, nothing can break me down_**

 ** _Don't need no advice, I got a plan_**

 ** _I know the direction, the lay of the land_**

 ** _I know the score like the back of my hand_**

 ** _Them other boys, I don't give a damn_**

 ** _I'm the man, come round_**

 _ **No-no-nothing can break, no-nothing can break me down**_

 ** _I'm the man, come round and_**

 ** _No-no-nothing can break, you can't break me down_**

 ** _I got gas in the tank_**

 ** _I got money in the bank_**

 ** _I got news for you baby, you're looking at the man_**

 ** _I got skin in the game_**

 ** _I got a household name_**

 ** _I got news for you baby, you're looking at the man_**

 _-'The Man' by The Killers_

* * *

 ** _The Present._**

The door slams behind them both, reverberating inwards and out through the small hall as they sidestep further into the apartment, entangled around one another with a mess of limbs and still fighting tongues. Harvey groans loudly, his hands lifting Donna by the hips enough to plant her against an ornate yet sturdy console table, as his hands leave her for the briefest of moments to shrug off his long and heavy coat. He feels her aid, with her nimble and erratic fingers before his hands finally slide back against fabric, dipping her head slightly as to lean it back and nipping at the exposed skin there.

"Donna," He breathes, feeling his own arousal bulge with a discomfort. "Thought you wanted to wait?" He checks.

 _At this point he's truly 'on the fence' as it were..._

She pulls at his bow tie, feeling it unravel in her hands before unbuttoning his shirt. "I also wanted a pony when I was six. _Things change_." She quips, smirking.

He chuckles to himself, as he leans back to give them distance, their elevated breaths mingling in the small space he has allowed them.

"Donna," He pauses, his arms sliding up her sides to plant the question hanging from his lips. " _ **Are you sure**_?" He asks, before she gives him an irritated, and slightly drunk look. " _Look_ , I want this more than anything but...if we _need_ to take a moment, I" He continues.

"Harvey. We screwed everything else up. The least we can do is reward ourselves for getting this far." She reasons, rather abruptly.

He smirks. _He had forgotten about her libido._ She had told him once that she was 'a sure thing', and not a patient woman at all when it came to sex. He had realised that soon after, with _The Other Time_.

She leans into him, her lips planting her decision firmly against him.

In truth, she isn't sure that they _should_ wait. Part of her is scared that _this moment_ , like all the others before it will pass, leaving them right back where they started. Like sealing a deal when it's ripe, she needed to be on top of _not only_ _him_ , but also the situation at hand, before it could bite them both in the ass.

 _By their shared history alone, they knew that their work had a habit of taking over._

He reacts then, the tension in his shoulders settling as he presses himself against her. She feels his need taut against her thigh, as she leans back, flicking off her heels behind herself, before her hands rise to bow his head and meet her suddenly shorter height.

He smirks, adjusting to the difference and bending slightly, their bodies falling flush together, a mixture of cotton and sequins that make her feel like some strange mermaid he hooked out of the sea.

She grabs at his buckle, a rash of hands and fingers fighting over the clasp. She bats his hand away, causing him to smile as he feels the pressing her breasts against his chest and her sucking passionately at his left earlobe as he hears his pants drop to the floor.

"Oh, fuck," Harvey mutters before the need is too much and he grabs her face, kissing her fully before his hands dig into her hips and he turns her swiftly around.

He's sure that over the last few hours he's been making maps, escape routes for her body out of that dress. _It's a talent, really, unless you're trying to avoid the endgame._ He smiles to himself as his lips contact with the back of her neck, his nose breathing in the smell of her hair as her hips buck against him and her hands find his short sideburns. She smells like vanilla and apples and suddenly, in the throws of their haste he finds himself stealing a moment to dislodge his mind from the sensory overload.

"We need to get you out of this dress," He finally mumbles in her ear, before planting a wet kiss on her jawline, as he spies the wall high mirror that reflects the side of her he cannot currently see. He watches her smile at him, her face flushed and a strangely wanton expression in her eyes. He realises in a flash just how symmetrical she is. He leans back enough to regard her garment, observing the small clasp at the top of her dress that he unhooks before his hand can attack the zip with gusto. _He's undressed enough of New York's finest women to know that you have to find your way around an expensive dress with as little damage as possible_. He pulls the zip down, sighing slightly through a haze of kempt excitement as he reveals her peachy skin, freckled all the way down to the base of her spine.

He smiles to himself, at rushing over this momentous occasion just to reach the finish line. He watches as she slides the one strap over her shoulder, allowing him to pull the dress past her thighs and watch as the heavy material pools on the floor with a swishing sound and a thud. His eyes flick back up to her, the sight of her bra-less and _literally_ in her 'birthday suit', save for a very small pair of baby blue almost see-through lace panties.

He stifles a groan, his arousal peaking at the sight of her, both in the mirror and from his view, as she slides the dress under her feet in the briefest of moments. He does the same, discarding his suit pants quickly before shrugging off his shirt and undervest.

He grabs for her, his hands enveloping her willowy frame as one hand grabs her neck, angling her lips to meet his own hungrily over her shoulder before the hand slides over her right breast, sucking at her now swollen lips before he turns her back flush against him. Her hips buck against his boxers as he feels her hand slide behind herself and past the waistband. For a moment, his eyes flutter close and he stalls, the ripe feeling of her cool fingers holding warm his erection, her thumb sweeping over the tip.

He chuckles, slightly out of body at the action, until he fights the urge to give her control and pushes off his underwear, before his hand slide against the edge of her ass, lowering to delve his middle finger into the object of his desire.

She moans, letting go of him and tilting her hips towards him as her hands support her weight on the table in front.

 _She is wet for him and him only and if it's all that they ever get, he will remember that she allowed him that, at least._

She grabs at his hand, surprising him and forcing his fingers deeper into her.

"Just fuck me, Harvey," She orders, demonstrating her willingness to ' _skip to the end_ ' as he watches her moan into the mirror.

A Gentlemen would have serviced her first, but she's so insistent that he doesn't need to be asked twice. He watches her hands brace on the table as he grabs her right thigh, lifting it slightly off of the ground, and entering her fully with one controlled thrust, eliciting moan in unison, before his hand moves to grasp at her hip, giving him adequate purchase.

She whimpers every time he thrusts into her, a groan sticking in his own throat like a bubble that's about to pop. His hand rises from her hip to her ribcage as he presses her body back into him, changing the angle for a moment before concentrating fully on his rhythm.

He wants to give everything to her. Everything he has ever learnt or earnt or made. But he can feel the pressure in him building too quickly for his liking, a bead of sweat sliding down his temple as her muscles strongly contract around him.

" _Harder, Harvey_ ," She moans, her arms quivering slightly as he thrusts deeper into her, filling her with all the energy he has left. Her pitch raises, and suddenly the beautiful woman he's been allowed inside is not the joke-making smart ass of her youth but suddenly a fiery vixen and very sultry object of his one true desire.

An image flashes in his mind of his dreams, before he's confronted a multifaceted reality, a rush of bound energy, and like an electrical jolt, the blood rushing to its intended location as he thrusts several times. She senses the same, a higher than usual pitched yelp and a moan as she curses, bucking her hips and closing her eyes as she feels him empty into her wave of orgasm.

He had forgotten that she was gifted, _not_ needing an extra hand in order to come, where some other women would have. She was like the rare unicorn of women, with a pleasure that both of them could share.

He sighs disappointedly, feeling rushed.

It's not as sensual as either planned. It's guttural and brief and real. But most of all _them_.

 _They never did linger over pleasantries. They were end game kind of people._

He sighs heavily, leaning against her hunched and tired form to plant a chaste kiss on the curve of her spine.

It is too fast an act to exchange adequate sentiment, it seems, as they silently catch their collective breath. He finds his hands unable to leave her sides, as they linger palm down against the table. He stays inside her for a moment, _where other women of his past have asked_ , instead he feels the raw need, the contact of skin against skin sealing their union, before he finally lowers her leg and disconnects from her, feeling his arm strain slightly. He smirks when she straightens, taking hold of his hands to wrap around herself. He smiles, pressing against her enough to rest his head in the long crook of her neck.

For a cocky and often vain man, all he can do is look past his own reflection and straight at her, with her flushed cheeks, messy coppery hair and a look of complete contentment on her tired face.

"Well.. that was a _very hot_ **four and half minutes** ," She quips, arching an eyebrow at his reflection.

He laughs warmly against her, completely caught off guard by her ruining what he considers to be a rather romantic moment.

"Hey," He chides, fringing a wounded expression. "Nothing like the _Specter Special,_ "

"I know _for a fact_ that that was _**not**_ the _'Specter Special'_ …" She smirks, besting him.

 _She knew everything. He'd have to shake it up from now on..._

"Have I ever told you just _how_ hot you are?" He asks simply, smirking.

"No. You have _not_." She sighs, kissing his cheek.

She stirs in his arms then, but he doesn't let up, and continues to hold her, and so she starts to press him backwards in the direction of the bedroom. "Okay spidermonkey, I need flannel and some cotton." She commands.

He pauses, turning her around to regard her with a look, as they disconnect somewhat.

"I'm sorry...did you think that you're going to be wearing clothes today?"

"One.. it's night still, not day, and two...I'm cold," She reasons, her eyes narrowing.

"Then _let's_ ," He pauses, his hands raking through her hair. "Go to your bedroom...and warm you up a bit?"

"I've got a better idea. How about a _hot_ shower? I could use it...I'm still a teensy bit drunk..." She says, matter of factly.

"Hmmm…we're going to have _sex_ in the shower, right?" He clarifies, his face taking on a youthfulness.

" _Of cours_ e," She confirms, taking his hand and leading the way.

"Then I….am _amenable_ to that," He remarks with a thoroughly entertained smile, watching her hips sway in front of him as her eye beckons him to follow.

* * *

With both a little addled from such a long night and a post coital haze, they sleep like teenagers who aren't yet imprinted with the aches and pains of middle age. Harvey falls asleep with the wise knowledge that when morning comes, they'll both regret their frisson of youthful exuberance. But he wagers that when his eyes do finally open, he'll be so taken with her that he'll bite back the discomfort of his bad shoulder and the knots in his back over the warm feeling of her freckly skin against his.

When the light streams into her windows, his mind doesn't disappoint.

There is something ethereal about her, with her hair that seems to shine with tones of copper and amber, and skin that is so pale it's almost translucent against his tan, save for freckles that twist into pictures and words and shapes. He smirks lazily, noticing that their feet are entwined, even as they've gravitated a foot or so apart during the early hours of the day.

He steals himself a moment to examine her, facing him, her hand stuffed under her pillow and her face removed of all tension. She is makeupless and devine, with her slightly gold looking eyelashes framing her eyes and her hair curly from the shower.

He's never seen this side of her. The last time he'd woken up to her he had been ready to jump into the work day, and her hair had moved to a relaxed straightness from it's rather work-styled hairdo.

He likes this older version of her. The untainted version, with the power heels and suits she's taken to wearing, now replaced with a short silk peach coloured nightie, that still shows the curves of her breasts and the promise of things that he'd tried to commit to memory the night before.

He's never been like this before. He doesn't even want to leave her to go to the bathroom, and he knows that the idea of that is slightly worrying. The images of that dream, of him staring into the bathroom mirror just to witness Travis Tanner sliding between the sheets next to her, still haunts him. He breathes out, reminding himself of two things.

 _He's not in his own apartment. Travis isn't here either. But finally, **she** is._

Over fifteen years of not being with the woman you've subconsciously chosen for life, will do that to a man. He puts a reminder in the back of his head not to freak out the first night she stays at his, and how the possibility of that being tonight is exponential.

 _He guesses they both have issues that they still need to work through._

He gravitates towards her, his legs moving further between hers as his hands slide across silk. He manages to wrap his arms around her as she stirs, her eyes fluttering open to catch his in a moment. She straightens with a sense of surprise, before finally the events of yesterday meet her sudden reservation.

He licks his lips as a lazy smirk pulls against hers.

"Hey you," She mumbles, her voice thick with sleep.

"Morning sunshine," He tells her, his hand flattening behind her back as he eagerly presses her back into the mattress, hovering above her and between her legs.

"Were you watching me sleep?" She accuses, her tongue darting out between her lips as she watches his expression soften with a coyness.

"Only for an appropriate amount of time," He says, his tongue sliding up his favourite side of her neck - her right - before his lips suck against the crescent mark he'd made only hours before.

She groans, knowing what he's done as she lays there waiting for him to finish.

"Good thing I'm not working today?" She says sarcastically, waiting for the shit eating grin that she knows will emerge when he finally meets her eyes.

They both know he's pleased with himself. "Oh...I'm sure that it won't fade until _at least_ Tuesday," He plays, the flirtation clear in his eyes as slides down her body, her accommodating him, by grabbing another pillow to stuff behind her head and watch as his hips rest against her pelvis, and then his arms that slide against her breasts, laying on top of them, carefully enough so that he can prop his chin in his hands.

She smiles at him, before her hands slide into his hair, tracing little patterns in his scalp as he closes his eyes at the sensation.

"You know...for two people with a lot to say to one another over the years, somehow, now, we... _don't_."

He hums in agreement, concentrating on her hands. "I think we've said everything there is to say, don't you?"

"I guess so... _well_ ,"

He groans then, knowing what's coming. "Well…"

"What?" She shrugs, her hands falling onto the bed as he lifts himself to a seated position.

"Donna." He says, his hands sliding to her hips in a way that makes her eyes flick to his dick for a second. He checks himself, aware of the distraction. "We're in a good place...let's just enjoy that place for a little while…?" He offers, his thumbs tracing circles over her hip bones.

She sits up immediately, and suddenly the idea dawns on him, rather irrationally so, that he might never have sex again just based on the contrary look in her eye.

"Harvey," She begins, sitting up with her legs either side of him. "We _still_ work together. And no matter how… _great_ ," She pauses, pulling at his boxers to bring him closer to her. "Last night was, and how much we've cleared up, there are still boundaries to set, and things that we need to discuss."

"Why can't we just...put all that on hold? It would make this far less complicated."

"Because, Harvey, _we did it all backwards_. And I don't want to feel like all those other women. Okay?"

His face settles with a seriousness, as he grabs each thigh, pulling her flush against him. She yelps, her hands sliding to his shoulders as he presses them together. "Donna," He says, making sure she's hearing him as his eyes connect with hers. "You have _never been_ nor will you _ever be_ one of _those_ women." He tells her, "Now, what's really going on?"

She sighs, biting her lip as she looks about her apartment. "Look. Last night was wonderful, and rushed and exactly what I think we both needed. And...I know that we talked and...I know how you feel and I don't want to keep bringing it up, but…. _ **you dated your therapist,**_ _Harvey_. One that was supposed to help you work through everything. With us, for starters. And I….it hurt. And I'm still dealing with that. And I don't want to make you feel bad, and I thought I could just jump into all of this, after last night but...we need to do it right."

He nods, his shoulders slumping as he regards her words for a moment.

She feels her gut stir. She doesn't want to upset him. But she can't just fall into this. It means so much and it's such a big step for them both. They are both demanding and they need to gradually work it all out. Otherwise cracks will appear in work, and they'll go their prospective corners with their own bad habits and then it would have all been for nothing.

"Okay," He says finally. "If you want to do it right, then we'll do it right. We will…. _Date_. Properly. Out of work. The whole thing."

"Are you sure?" She frowns, her hands sliding up to his cheekbones.

"Donna. I love you. I know what I want….but if it makes you happier to set the pace and start from bottom up,"

"No one said _anything_ about _the bottom_ ," She quips, deadpan.

He gives her a look, letting her humourous comment slide. "Then _that's_ what we'll do." He resolves, his hands sliding around her arms.

"Thank you, Harvey." She says cupping his face.

"You're welcome. But if you catch me with blue balls you know my time is firmly up."

"Oh," She remarks, her lips pouting as a streak of wickedness appears in her eyes and her fingers trail down his neck, passing his chest and trailing over his abdomen. "I better not touch you like _this_ , then?" She offers with a perfectly arched eyebrow as her hand dips a little lower.

"Nope." He says, a warning in his eyes until her hand moves further. "Although…" He muses, before he feels the need stir in him and his hands grasp hers with a lightning reflex, stopping them in their tracks. "Nope. Stop. I can't..." He admits, his resolve bending.

She's disappointed immediately, wondering if she can even keep her own side of the bargain.

She watches him start to slide off of the bed then, and grabs his arm, pulling him back. "Let's start from Monday morning?" She reasons rather too quickly, watching as a smile streaks across his face, and his hands wrap back around her.

"Yeah, I can get behind that," He agrees staunchly, his lips parting hers with a hunger he'd been trying to keep in check.

* * *

He's lucky that she didn't have any of his suits at hers anymore, when she threw him out of her apartment at gone ten in the evening, with a kiss that had turned their decision around at least three times, before he finally did the gentlemanly thing and made himself be the one to finally leave.

He had text her that night, telling her that he missed her and loved her, and hoped their four date minimum agreement was over and done with by Friday, _otherwise_ he would sue her ass for the equivalent of Puffery and Pain and Suffering.

She had merely written back with the words: "You should be here going down on me right now." which had thrown him into immediate laughter and the need for a little solo time, but not before he had written back with a smiley face, and resolved himself to pick her up in the morning just so he could kiss her before they got to work.

He looked about his apartment, until his eyes had spied the cactus in the corner.

He'd had to repot the damned thing, which now stood by the large window at way over one foot high in a see-through glass geometric pot. He had lied to Paula when she had asked who it was from, stating that his brother had given it to him as a cruel joke.

A swell of pride warmed his chest as he looked at it.

 _A marker of his growth._

 _Of their unwavered connection._

 _And how she had ordered him to look after it, and he had silently accepted the task._

He couldn't wait for her to see how much he had cared for it.

* * *

She feels different to how she thought she would. When she'd gotten a promotion. When she'd left him. She had assumed after each situation, that he would have come to her. That this would have happened two years ago, a year ago.

 _Six months ago._

But then it hadn't and she in turn felt stupid, as if the one thing in the world that she couldn't figure out was Harvey Reginald Specter.

So, now, after everything that had happened, to now be wrong about that as well, was leading her into a very different emotional place. In some ways they were like strangers, having had six months apart and almost two years before that being slightly off kilter with one another, and then on top of that, like the unwelcomed cherry, twelve more years of being in one another's pockets _before that_ , made for...a rather _unusual_ situation.

To say she was out of her depth was a _large_ understatement.

But they were in love. And deep down they knew one another.

What she had to do now, was trust in the things about him that had not changed, and learn which things she always suspected were actually true, and let go of the things that weren't anymore.

She sighs.

She was over thinking the entire thing. And maybe she was only doing that because she just wanted to be with him. She isn't obsessed, she was just eager to spend time being whatever they were turning into. And oddly, work, that had been a crutch and a sanctuary of theirs for years, was now an obstacle.

She looks in the mirror, examining her dress. He had let it slip, once, to the shock of them both, that he _loved_ her in green.

She looks at her bedroom mirror, examining a new find of hers, from a recent trip to Bloomingdales, an agave green sheath dress by a brand called Black Halo, with sculpted short sleeves that drew to a point at the back of each arm. It is office-worthy and yet is of the kind of calibre of dress that she knows will set her apart from the rest, in her now established position. She has fixed her hair to the side, so it tumbles down one shoulder - over the makeup ridden 'brand' that Harvey had so cruelly given her - and had allowed for a peachy lipstick to offset the look. She is grateful that the weather outside had been pleasant enough when she'd gotten her mail to make her think there was no point bothering with a coat today.

She feels thoroughly fucked still, yet fresh and fabulous enough to meet the day, and all that it may have to offer, as she leaves her apartment. When she steps outside the building, clad with burgundy nails, nude Louboutins and a Mui Mui satchel to match, she smiles broadly as she witnesses a welcome and familiar sight, in a somewhat matching blue suit and a white and gold tie, waiting casually for her with his arm draped against the car.

He smirks, eyeing her dress like it has an invitation written on it just for him.

"Morning beautiful." He greets. "Want a ride?" He offers cooly, giving her his signature smoulder, as she steps gracefully down the steps towards him.

She smiles, rolling her eyes to disarm his charming assault, as she stands in front of him. "That's so kind of you," She greets, before examining him.

By the look of it, he had dressed in a rush, but neat enough to tell her that she knows he'd tried to cover up the fact.

He gives her mirth ridden look, knowing that his tells are showing as he physically relinquishes, watching as she places her bag on her shoulder so that her now free hands can slide around his tie.

 _He's missed this._ Missed the contact, where it's been absent for so long. Even when she came back to work for him she avoided the contact, and he'd grown so used to it that now they are back into their old rhythm he truly can't help himself.

"I actually came here with the intention of kissing you. _If I may_ ," He says, observing the level of concentration on her face as she smoothes his lapels and corrects the dimple in his tie.

"I thought we agreed we would take things slow?" She says, a soft seriousness to her expression.

"Well... _we are_." He shrugs, only half convinced himself.

She gives him a look. "You had to run away from my apartment yesterday," She reminds him, her hands sliding against his Tom Ford royal blue suit.

"Well, _one of us_ had to be the bigger man." He reasons, his hands twitching at his sides. "One kiss. No touching." He offers.

"I think you're benching above your weight, Specter." She warns, challenging him.

 _If she were to be honest with herself, she'd admit that_ _ **she's**_ _the one who can't seem to restrain herself…_

"Try me." He says, his game face pulling on.

"I already have. You...are _addictive_." She states, her hands immediately sliding to hold her bag in the space between them.

"I like the sound of that," He sighs, a feeling stirring deep down inside him as he observes her attire. "But clearly, you have _no idea_ how hot you look right now...if I had any balls at all, I'd take you to a hotel room and reschedule _our_ _entire day_ ,"

She swallows then, that look of lust connecting between their eyes. She draws a quick breath, straightening just to stop the urge to throw him into the car and tell Ray to take a long walk around the block.

" _ **One kiss**_. And then we go to work, and then on our _aforementioned_ date." She says, a fussiness to her tone that he's growing quickly back in love with.

She lowers her bag, a hand sliding up to his cheek as she plants her mouth against his already moist lips. The kiss is chaste, and slow and beholding of so many mixed emotions, as her lips slide against his with a familiar approach.

He wants to open her mouth, and suck at her tongue and tilt her head to get a better angle, but he fears in that moment that given their new attention to one another, it might completely ruin them for the day. So he is careful, and reciprocative, and measured.

He smiles against her lips, their noses bumping in the process until she pulls back, her hand dropping to equal the weight of her bag, as she regards him.

 _None of it matters really. She could kiss him on the cheek now, and he'd be on her like rat down a drainpipe._

"Dinner at mine? I'll cook." He offers.

"Harvey, _we're dating_." She clarifies.

"That's a signature date move." He counters, the tone of his voice rising.

"Maybe on date three or four. But if we do that tonight, then one bottle of red, your White Wine Chicken with Caprese salad later and I'll be spread-eagled on your bed staring at the sky with your head in my lap."

"All I hear are the words 'perfect evening'." He quips, giving her a look that results in her softly slapping at his chest, before it resolves in an eventual understanding. _He knows. He just wants to rush it. He wants to be with her. And she's making it and him so_ _incredibly_ _hard…_

He smirks, sighing loudly. "Fine," He agrees. "Dinner _tonight_. I'll pick you up outside the office at seven thirty sharp." He says, popping the 'p'. "Now, let's get to work. We're late."

* * *

They walk into the office like silver and silk, her eyes flicking to his in the elevator as they try to act nonchalant. This is their place of work. _Their home_. This means as much to them as they do to one another.

 _They'll play it right. Because they already play the game anyway._

The door opens to the lobby, as they both exit at the same time, and for a second Harvey notices people staring, until it is made very clear that they are staring solely at Donna.

The men, mostly, but even some of the women.

And then he realises, she's radiating this vibe, this energy that he's never seen in the office before. Sure, he has a post coital glow, and he feels like cock of the walk, but he's been continuously having sex since his twenties to the point where endorphins are probably lodged in his DNA.

But women, they're supposed to give off this pheromone to tell the world that they're getting it, and for more men to join the bunch. It's cave-man and primal and he doesn't like it on her. He feels his throat tighten, as he realises that she's probably the hottest thing, not only to himself, but to every adult male in the building.

He breathes, and stifles the urge to touch her as they arrive at her office. She pauses, glancing at him in a subtly suggestive way that makes him want to grab her and kiss her for all to see. Instead he purses his lips and nods, hoping the urge isn't too obvious.

 _It is._

She smirks in a way that tells him she's won the first round of a game he hadn't even agreed to play. He winks at her, watching her smile as she sits gracefully at her desk, remaining casual as he continues to his own destination.

Today...was going to be a very new day for them.

* * *

The day moves solidly, and luckily Rachel had already text her, away from the office, to ask how the weekend had gone and to let her know that Harvey had indeed let her in on their sudden exit. She smiles to herself, knowing her friend had left them to it. As good friends do.

After greeting Louis, she returns to her desk, giving enough time to concentrate on her Monday morning pile of work, that pulls her _far_ into afternoon.

When it gets to the evening, she's not seen Harvey all day, receiving only one message to tell her he's had to go and ass kiss Mr Shaw at Fortmann and Cainer Ltd. She knows the man well, and his Engineering firm, and messages back to let him know that Mike has stopped by Louis's office and is en route to meet him.

It occurs to her that their common courtesy of letting one another know where they are is so ingrained now, that now the lines of communication are open once more, that they fall back into the same old habits just as easily.

When the evening beckons, she's already called _the_ number, to service her date laden needs, and spends an hour after her finish time in the women's bathroom deciding on the perfect date outfit.

She assumes that Harvey will either take her to somewhere she loves, or somewhere new but recommended for a first date. Now, she's not fussy, and they have a comfortable ease in their relationship, years of dining together, where places like their beloved diner, and the jazz clubs around town are their humble beginnings and emotional crutches. But she knows Harvey, and he will want to spoil her, as he has done so many times before.

So, _she's going to dress for the occasion._

Now, there are some requirements.

In case her date feels the need to hold her waist, or kiss her neck - she's not holding anything to chance - the dress can't disallow any option, except perhaps sex. She also needs to look regal and yet still a little sexy. To look elegant but casual and fun, so that she can dine in it, but also so it doesn't look like she had hoped for the Opera. It has to be better than her - _sometimes lavish_ \- workwear and yet avoid the notion of red carpet attention seeking.

 _Although...Harvey Specter has a reputation around town._ She could push the boat out.

She decides after a painstaking checklist of requirements on an J Mendel, black and backless silk embroidered dress, with softly ruffled shoulders that pull down the middle as the main detail. It's elegant and a 'cocktail dress' without the fuss and drama that she would otherwise lead with. She curls her hair and pins it to trail down one side of her neck - still hiding Harvey's devilish mindset - opts for red lipstick and teams it with a pair of crystal and black suede Jimmy Choos that sport a swirly pattern and two ankle clasps that match the frock exactly.

She looks at herself, with a light makeup to offset the punchy lipstick of choice, and picks up her old YSL clutch, before gliding out of the bathroom with her victory walk.

She almost headbutts Mike in the process, the women's bathroom door clattering behind her as his hands grasp her arms.

"Donna. Crap!" He yelps, steadying them both.

"Geeze, Mike." Donna breathes, giving him a pointed glare. "You nearly owed me a hospital bill."

"Sorry, I was... _rushing_." He says, matter of factly.

"Didn't you get out of rushing in your first year here?" She jokes.

 _They both know the answer to that._

"No…" He drags the answer, his hands sliding into his pockets. "I still...rush…you know that." He says, frowning with a familiar ambiguity in his words.

She smiles.

"You look...hot." He points to her dress. "Sexy but not _too_ much."

"Well, thank you for your rather _male_ opinion, Mike." She jokes, frowning at him in distaste. "It's not at all creepy in any way." She quips.

"I just mean that... _Harvey's gonna love it_." Hey tells her, smiling warmly.

"You think?" She asks him, becoming a tad self conscious. _Trust Mike to remind her of her upcoming date._

 _Scottie had been right. He was baby Harvey in all the ways that mattered. And a dork._

"Of course," He says, smiling warmly. "I mean...he'd love you in a trash bag." He compliments. "He's downstairs by the way...said to get to get your ass down there asap." He smirks.

"Oh, right," She says, breathing in a long breath.

She side steps him before her name calls her back.

"Donna,"

"Yeah?"

"For what it's worth...Harvey's been...oddly chirpy today. I have a hunch he's excited to see you, so….you kids have a good time."

She smiles warmly, leaning in to kiss the younger man on the cheek. "Thanks Mike. Give my love to Rach."

"Like I told _him_ , _ **don't forget to wear adequate protection**_." He calls after her.

 _She loves that young man. He will forever be a fixed point in her life._

* * *

When she exits the building, meeting the sidewalk with a peppering of lights that bounce of the walls of their building all the way up the surrounding buildings, she spots Havey, a fresh suit on and carefully leant against his black and reflective town car, no doubt concealing a waiting Ray in the front.

He smiles, his expression sharpening when she pauses in front of him. He licks his lips, suddenly immersed in thought, as he pushes off of the car, opening the door to her in one practised motion, like the first steps to the dance of life.

" _You're late_." He tells her, a little sharply.

"I'm worth the wait." She tells him boldly.

He smiles to himself, " _ **You are**_." He agrees, his smile widening as she glides slowly towards him. She pauses, ducking to slide onto the back seat.

He joins her, pleasantries with Ray already exchanged as they meet in the middle of the seats.

"So. Ready for a _real_ date?" He offers.

"Yes. A real _**first**_ date."

"All above board." He agrees.

"We're going to do this _properly_." She states. "As it should have been done in the first place."

"We are." He nods.

 _ **One and a half hours later.**_

"God...damn it." She pants, falling backwards onto the bed.

"Donna," He says, trying to disarm her.

"This...is...ridiculous." She breathes, catching her breath as they lay, sweaty and spent on the top of his crumpled sheets. "We've managed to be in the same room for fifteen years, without the wheels ever coming off." She moans, low in her throat.

He smirks, propping himself up by the elbow enough to look at her. "Well, _once you let the lid off a smoking pot_ ," He remarks.

"It gets…. _ **cold**_?" She adds, losing the metaphor.

" _Howling dogs in the basement_?" He offers, trying for another.

"Get out and kill everybody. _I know_ , i know. You're right." She sighs. "I just…I wanted this... _Us_...to be…"

"Traditional?"

"Yes. Maybe." She says, unsure herself.

"Donna," He says, sitting up. "We're not traditional. Were both forty, unmarried and have no children. I used to take you shopping. You used to fix my suits, and you still do. We are... _different_. We always have been and we always will be. So why should we worry about convention now?"

"I just wanted to date!" She says, oddly exasperated. "And do the things couples do, with the one person I never got to do it all with."

"Huh. So _that's_ what this is?" He nods. _He understands now._ "You don't want our past to define us."

"Of course not. We have a rather...inconsistent track record."

"Think of it this way…" He encourages. "You know all my bad qualities. I've hurt you like no one else can, and it's mostly the same for you. But we're still here. And that means something."

She frowns then, sitting up whilst dragging a little part of the sheet for modesty. "How did _I_ hurt _you_?"

"Donna, When you left… _It broke m_ e. And then you made me work out things with my Mom and then you stopped speaking to me _again_ and it broke me worse than the first time, except by then I knew how to deal with it better. _We are who we are._ Instead of dating...let's just go...do shit."

"What kind of shit?" She smirks, indulging him.

"Anything you want...unless it's multiple theatre visits. _I have my limits_."

She smiles, chuckling as she hands pats his cheek. "Okay. Let's just...be."

"I like that. So...we've had sex again, which _I am_ certainly grateful for. I couldn't stop thinking about nailing you all day."

"Awww... _you're so romantic_ …" She says, playing on his honesty.

"It's," He pauses, checking his watch as it rests on the nightstand. "Nine oh two. What do you wanna do?"

"Let's...go for a walk. We practically ran through dinner so...a large dessert sounds perfect."

"You need anything to wear?" He asks her.

"Ugh. Yes I do. If remember, I think we ripped my dress….I need...your shirt, an old suit if you have it and _two belts_."

He gives her a weird look, images running through his mind.

 _ **Five minutes later.**_

"You look stunning. _Really_. How is that…?" He frowns, slight disbelief on his face. "They're not even _your size_ …" He takes a moment, examining the wonderful sight in front of him against his rather casual jeans and thin grey v-neck sweater.

He observes _Donna_ , wearing an older pair of his dark pin stripe blue suit pants, belted tight on her hips and folded up at the ends to a three quarter length, with his white shirt draping over her and open at the top to accentuate the thick collar, - _and the threat of the lace bra she's wearing_ \- with rolled up sleeves to the elbow, and a brown belt clinching her tiny waist. Finally, she puts on her black heels from her earlier outfit that set it off with a feminine touch to match her tumble of copper waves and still reapplied red lipstick.

"I just don't know how you do it." He admits, shrugging at the wonderful view in front of him.

"Fifteen years of helping _you_ dress, dating awful men that work on Wall Street and reading back issues of Vogue in the bathtub." She explains, cocking an eyebrow.

He grins, his hands sliding around her and into both pant suit pockets, as he gives her ass a briefly allowed squeeze, before folding her lavishly into the warmth of his body. "Well, for all that hard work, there's something extremely sexy about you looking _this good i_ n my clothes." He hums against her cheek, before letting her go.

"Well, I nearly went with just a shirt and belt but I figured it was far too _Pretty Woman_." She reasons, giving him a confident smile.

"Yeah. We'd have been having _a lot_ of sex around the city if you had." He purrs.

" _Sex 'around' the City._ The _lesser known_ novel to tv show." She jokes, making fun of him.

"Witty." He says, yanking slightly at her hand. "Come on Miranda, let's go find you some post-sex ice cream." He says picking up his keys along the way.

"There is _no way_ I'd be Miranda," He hears her object behind her. "Do you not even know which one _you_ are?"

* * *

She feels calm. She feels...centered, as they walk hand in hand through Manhattan, their stomachs full of Baskin Robbins and now wandering the night with no place to go, all whilst exchanging looks they don't have to hide anymore and playing at the kind of conversation that involve young lovers, as they learn to be around one another again.

When they had slept together and then worked together, there had always been this well crafted invisible line, like a boundary, marking his space and hers, yet existing in the same general space that was his to begin with, but at the same time, marking where neither could cross. She had pushed at that line, and he had flexed it, only for them both to pull it back against them over the years.

Now, there is _no_ line.

Just her, and him and an uncharted future.

Harvey seems to be an unfortunately consistent part of her life, and for better or for worse she is unable to shake him now.

She thought, once, that they were meant to be together.

But four years on and she's starting to wonder if that fact never wavered at all.

"Okay. So. Ground rules." She says, changing the subject as her left arm pulls him closer to her side, yanking a boyish grin onto his relaxed face. "If we get into an argument about the personal, then we bench it, and continue it at home."

"Or," He adds. "We go to lunch and work it out, or have hot hate sex at the Four Seasons."

"That's fair. But _no_ sex at the office…" She clarifies.

"Why do you hate me?" He says, feigning disappointment.

She chuckles, ignoring his wounded expression.

"Harvey...I know that it's probably been a _key fantasy_ of yours for a while," She says, watching as he takes on a self consciousness that reads it as a little more than the truth. "But it is not good for us to pollute the waters right now, especially as people now see you as the Boss, and the firm is finally back up on it's feet." She reasons. "Which reminds me...if you pick me up, or if we travel together, then we probably shouldn't be entering or exiting the building together."

That stops him then, as he pauses in his tracks, pulling her back to regard him. "Donna," He says in _that_ tone. "I've been picking you up for years...and we have been coming and going from that building for well over a decade."

"But it's different now. _I'm Management_."

"I don't give a shit. They thought we were screwing back then and they're going to think it again, so as long as we act professionally at the office, Ray is going to pick us both up on time every day and no one will be the wiser."

She squares a look at him then, before she allows the words to fall out of her mouth. "I guess you're right," She says, only half convinced, before looping a hand around his arm and leading them back on the beaten path, alongside a flash of moving cars and general hustle and bustle. "And as for working together and _being_ together,"

"It won't be easy, but we've been a well oiled machine for a long time, Donna. I'm just about over you _**not**_ being my Assistant anymore." He says, giving her a look that tells her he's still a little sore at her leaving him. "Obviously, the last few months have been harder than I expect to _ever_ feel, again, but now that we're on the same page,"

" _And In the same bed_ ,"

"We're going to do what we've always done,"

"Which is why...we need to _schedule_ time. To be...just _us_."

"Okay. _Deal_." He says, pouting slightly in thought.

"That means, that regardless of developments, we have one _official_ date night per week."

"Friday?" He offers.

" _Any_ day. As long as it's four days a month, minimum."

"Why do I feel like you're now _over_ planning things?"

"Harvey," She pauses, "We work long hours. With one day off a week. And if we're serious about keeping this from leaking into the work week then we need to set solid time outside of that."

"Mike and Rachel do it all the time, I'm sure that we can handle it." He throws at her.

"Mike and Rach _live together_ , so they have the _time_ at their disposal."

"Are you suggesting we...live together?" He offers, giving her a familiar expression but with a very subtle difference in tone.

Her tone however, is no different. " _No_ ….I. I'm just…no." She frowns, giving him a look.

"Well..why don't we?" He offers then, his face taking on an interesting lightness.

"Harvey," She pauses in her footing, her eyes wide.

"What?" He shrugs casually.

"We don't know that this isn't going to _fall apart_ in three weeks…" She says, drawing a sharp breath.

"Donna. You can't run scared anymore, and neither can I." He tells her.

" _Hey Kettle, Potted called earlier, by the way..._ " She says, pointing behind them.

"Look, I know you don't wanna hear this. But I recently got out of my second real relationship. Admittedly Paula didn't move in, but we spent six nights a week and one day together for six months. And I've spent over a decade with you, nearly _every single day_. There's very little we don't know about one another, and anything we've missed out on we'll catch up with. The sex is… _beyond expectation_ , but the fact is... **we are both**...getting a little old, now."

"Speak for yourself, Grandpa." She says, mildly offended by this statement.

"So, _I_ am now in the market of wanting to settle, with the woman _I am in love with_ , before I stop being able to see what she looks like naked, without the aid of laser surgery."

A sound bubbles up her throat and puffs out into a smile, goofily, as she regards this open man in front of her, with very little held in the back.

"Okaaay." She says reservedly. "I'll sell my apartment." She says. "But only if you're sure?"

"Donna. I'm sure." He tells her. "But...your clothes won't fit in my closet...so...we're going to have sell **both** our apartments." He says.

"But I _love_ your apartment! I picked it out." She says, whinging slightly in a way that makes him smile.

"I know...but...look at it this way. You get to pick our _next_ one, **_and_** live in it." He offers.

"Hmm...that is an attractive proposal." She says, as they share a look.

"I thought you'd like that." He says, seeming pleased with himself.

"We're really doing this?" She asks.

" _We're really doing this_." He confirms. "Which is great because we are doing it A LOT anyway, so." He quips, smoothing her shoulders as she shivers noticeably against the suddenly cool breeze. "Here," He encourages, taking off his jacket and sliding it around her. "I knew you'd get cold tonight."

"Oh, you're just breaking out any 1950's convention that you can find, aren't you?" She accuses, taking the coat with a silent thank you that they both know she wants to challenge.

" _Don't hate on a Gentleman_." He remarks, pulling with a heaviness on the coat's collar in a way that sparks an energy between them. He's never rough with her, but always playing on the edges of her nerve.

"You _never used to be_ a Gentleman."

"Well, maybe I'm trying to make up for lost time."

"I just thought we would...casually date...for a while, at least. Like in the movies."

"One. People that fall in love in the movies, rarely ever date. And I thought you'd realise that the moment I figured it all out, that I'd wanna get to the finish line as soon as humanly possible?"

She hums, thinking on the notion of lovers and fate and chance, before his attention cuts off her reverie.

"Ah...which reminds me. I don't have any _whipped cream_ back home."

"Oh god. Then we need to run to the store before it closes!" She says animatedly, tugging at him to hurry with a vibrant youthfulness that pulls a titter of laughter out of his chest.

* * *

 _Ugh. These two. Like a scar against my heart._ Writers: Please just ditch Paula, make an interesting Darvey choice, and then get back to the group dynamic of the show!

On that note...please feed the kitty.

A_


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes:**

Hey Guys! Thanks for following this, and even bigger thanks for the reviews. This is the last Chapter here. Consider this fic complete! Which is rare for me so yay. Now I can focus on unfinished ones like 'TNWO' and finishing 'Donna'… A_

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* * *

.

Book Two, Part Three.

The Final Chapter of their life _before_ , merging into their life after.

The last real Obstacle.

 _ **Getting all of your ducks in a row:**_

When it came down to it, they had always held one another in mind. Any step Harvey took, he took for two pairs of feet. A life for _two_ occupants. There had been times, where he had slipped up, but over the course of their time together, they had walked side by side, fought side by side, and stayed very much as a pair. Even when they weren't, they were presumed as such.

 _Things never change_ , she realises.

They are... _who they are_. Separate. Together. It makes no difference, really.

Now, it's time for them to _face the music, as it were_. To put their cleanly framed plan into execution.

Two Bosses - involved with one another - taking the helm between them.

If he was honest with himself, he'd always planned this. Not this _exact_ outcome, but the concept of them running the firm _as them_ , _as a team,_ had always been at the forefront of his mind.

Not because he couldn't do it without her. But because he _loved_ working with her. Because he understood how she balanced him. And after Jessica had left, it only made more sense, that they inherit what they had helped grow.

For a man with his reputation for being a shark, a closer and a ladies man, he'd trade it all in to be but a mere half of the power couple that they were slowly turning into.

She had been right about needing 'more'. About her role extending from his Assistant to one that gave her more to work with. More status. More rewards.

Now, as they walk into the firm, they do so like two sides of a very solid coin. Like the two scales of balance.

He flashes her a smile, watching her suddenly vibrant hair swishing against her shoulders.

as she glides down the hall beside him like it's her very own catwalk.

 _If he could make that a reality, he would._

When it comes to her, he's just that way inclined.

She looks to him, matching his grin and cocking an eyebrow.

He has a flash of her naked, peach and coral amidst his slate grey and powder white sheets. He swallows, and she reads his expression quicker than he can eradicate it.

They land on their intended destination, all business about them then, as their recipient looks up, blinking at the two game faces staring down at him.

"Harvey. Donna...to what do I owe the pleasure...on this rather dismal morning?" Louis greets, looking up from his laptop.

"Louis. _We_...need to talk to you." Harvey starts.

"Shoot." He says, continuing to type.

" _We_ are….Louis...can't you stop typing for just one sec?" Harvey asks, frowning as he glances at Donna.

"Nooope. Tooooo busy." Louis fires at them, his face bunching in concentration.

"Ooookay. Well...we came here to let you know that...Harvey and I...are... _together_." Donna says.

Louis stops typing then, looking to the pair. " _As in_...?" He asks.

"As in... _romantically_ involved." Harvey adds, giving him a look.

"Oh. _Uh_ …...well, that's….uh," He says, his mouth opening and closing several times.

"Louis, _it only just happened_ , but it's-"

"Expected?" Louis adds, looking blankly at them both.

"What?" Harvey grunts, frowning down at the Named Partner.

"Well….Donna _said_ you had slept together once before, I guess I just _assumed...after your party_ -"

" _Wait a sec_." Harvey say, holding up a finger to point to Donna. "You **told him** we slept together?" He asks her, his face reading the many layers of interest with a tinge of annoyance.

"It was a long time ago...and...he... _forced it out of me_!" She says, all dramatic flare and circumstance about her voice.

"Look, I... _we_ all assumed that this would happen at some point, I mean, look at the two of you? Do you even know what you look like when you're together? It's like some...elaborate dog and pony show." Louis says, gesturing between them.

" _You're the dog_." Donna remarks, glancing at Harvey with a tell-tale edge of humour.

"I guess I better go find you something to chomp on, then?" He offers, smirking at her. "A carrot, maybe?" He jokes, flashing her the kind of stare that could get them in trouble now.

" **Seriously, guys** ," He interrupts their banter. "It's….not _all_ that surprising." He says, giving them a tired look.

"But we'll still be working together, Louis?" Donna infers, giving them both a look.

"But you're not his Assistant any longer. Right?" He fires back at her, his tone direct.

" _No_. But he's _still_ my Boss?" She says, feeling as though she's missing the point.

"But I'm... _also_ your Boss." Louis says.

"Okay, this is getting weird." Harvey adds, huffing as he moves to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Look, what I mean is, the line of command is split, now." He explains, before looking to Harvey. "You're _not_ her direct superior anymore, and therefore, there should be no conflict of interest. _Pertaining to the by-laws_." He says, before typing once more.

"What about the 'no inter-office dating' rule?" Donna asks.

"Well...I can change that." He shrugs. "Most people don't actually adhere to it anyway...I mean... _Mike and Rach_?"

"That is a good point." Donna adds, thinking on the concept.

"You're sure about this?" Harvey asks Louis, his expression tentative.

 _If there's one thing Harvey's learnt, it's that he has to tread carefully with Louis. Louis is reasonable, but there are always a few kinks in the engine that he has to watch out for…_

They watch as Louis slaps his laptop down then, sighing heavily before straightening in his seat.

"Professionally, you've both worked very hard to get where you are. And the majority of the time you've never let your situation affect the firm. That's why I asked Donna if you two had slept together. I assumed you had, but you never know with you two. It's commendable, actually." He regards, before continuing his work. "God knows if Sheila had worked here full time, MMMh," He grunts. "I'd have been on her quicker than Norma on a Bat Mitzfah buffet, God rest her soul."

"Well...that's an image I can't erase from my mind," Harvey remarks, noticing Donna glare at him.

"Two images." Donna adds, humorously.

Harvey relaxes then. "Thankyou Louis." Harvey says, smiling softly as he looks to a rather relaxed Donna.

They both start to turn, seemingly victorious, until Louis's voice pipes up once more.

"But if you two break up, so help me _**god**_ , I will rain down on you _**both**_ like the King of the God damned Nile." He warns.

He watches Donna, an odd expression painted on her lips as she regards the warning as if it were gospel. "A strange, but somehow fitting perspective." She observes. "Thankyou, Louis." She says, smirking, before walking out.

Harvey lingers a second longer, just to check. "What she said." He remarks, pointing to Donna, before following suit.

. .

. .

He catches up with her, on the walk back to their offices. "Well. That went... _well_." He says, looking to her.

" _Really_ well." She says, candidly.

He can see it in her eyes, the win percolating into her entire being in a way that now sets his skin on fire.

He leans in, his voice hushed. "I _really_ want to kiss you right now." He tells her.

"I really _want you_ to kiss me right now." She matches, pouting slightly.

"Sidebar?" He offers.

"My Office?" She offers, smirking at that new option in her life.

" _Too open_." He remarks. "File Room?" He options.

"Psshh….were not Mike and Rachel." She remarks, giving him a look.

"My place?" He says then, looking at her with the mere hint of smoulder about him. "Or a Hotel?"

"No Harvey...were going to be _professionals_. We can handle this." She sighs dramatically. "We are adults." She notes.

He makes a sound of disagreement. "Were more like horny teenagers at the moment." He remarks, a shred of doubt on his face.

She groans, belying her real opinion on the matter, as her shoulders slump. "I know, right?" She says, looking at him with a tired expression. "I keep watching you continually picture me _naked_." She offers, that cat like perception blanching out all over their perfectly foiled plan.

"That's not...what I was…." He stumbles on the words.

He notices her stop, and looks around at her, as she arches an eyebrow at him.

" _That's exactly what I was doing_." He relinquishes, shrugging in defeat.

She continues walking, striding next to him.

"It's okay. Every time you pout without realising I just want to stick my tongue in your ear."

"Ah!" He's the one to pause, then, his hand coming up like an objection. "Stop it. You're right...we need to... _focus_." He tells her.

"How about one _quick_ kiss. In your office?" She offers conspiratorially, bending at the hip in a way that makes him pay attention to the scarlet red dress she's wearing, the one with an obscure name, that hugs her curves and tantalises him with it's scalloped sweetheart neckline.

"Nope. Thats a 'No go'." He objects, standing a little straighter. "One kiss and we'll be displaying _more_ than our usual _leadership abilities_." He wagers, as they finally reach his office.

She smirks then, sensing the potent electricity in his eyes that belies some sort of arousal. "I'm suddenly _so_ thankful that Jessica isn't here. She'd _really_ be lecturing you right now." She teases.

He frowns, his lips twitching as he closes the distance between them. " _When we get home_ , I'm gonna bone you so hard you're actually gonna see stars…" He whispers between them, pouting deliberately.

"Awww," She pauses, her expression softening.

"Was that _romantic_?" He frowns, his eyebrows raising in confusion. "Did I miss something?"

"No. You said ' _when we get home_ '." She says, smiling with a glow, as her hands slide towards him on their destination to his tie.

" _I did_...didn't I." He agrees, his eyebrows twitching then. "Maybe I'm not as bad at this relationship ship stuff as I thought." He tells her, concentrating on the way her hands slide against his chest, and how it complicates things for him now.

"Well, when you refrain from using the word 'stuff'. Yeah. _You're turning into a master of relationships_." She smiles, her hands smoothing down his lapels with a sense of finality about the task.

For a moment he feels them both lean in, both disconnect from the world around them. He's suddenly looking at peachy lips, and trying to remember the positions she had him in this morning.

"Okay. Focus." She orders, ripping them both out of their _all too private_ moment. " _We_...have a firm to run." She says, giving him one of her looks. The kind that always _did_ drive him a little crazy.

She pauses by the door, her expression filling with emotions he's only just begun to understand.

"I love you." She says.

"I love you too…" He smiles, watching her alien reluctance as she folds behind the square pillar into her own office.

He sits down at his desk, looking right after a moment.

 _With no idea that she is looking right back at him._

 _He really needs to get his shit together._

He understands now, that his most treasured accomplishment is giving her everything she wants. He had failed on that without realising, by just one thing. But it had been a big one. The most important, by most people's standards. He hadn't understood the entire picture, until the pieces had all started to fit together. Now he realises. Her salary, the shopping trips, dinner, lunch and breakfast. _His Key_...they were all his heart's way of giving her everything that he could emotionally offer her, but without the full commitment.

 _It turns out_ , once he'd given her his heart, their relationship was strangely unchanged by comparison.

Well, minus _the sex._ And god was that a good part of their transition into a couple. Not the best, though, oddly. Their connection alone, had been enough to keep them going. He was the luckiest son of a bitch alive, to have this wonderful woman, who was his paramore and now his established 'other person'. Add sex into that and he was on cloud nine, most days.

Donna finally feels like she has all of her ducks in a row. When she looks back, the two of them always travelled in parallel. But mostly, they travelled in one giant frustrating circle. They were now back to the beginning, where their connection had been the same as always. _Harvey doting on her, and her, his constant aid in all matters._ The only variable that they thought had been an obstacle was one that she had put in place. Them working together. _Her rule_. The only matter left unchecked had been the matter of the heart. And Harvey had held hers for so long, it took over decade to figure out where she'd left it.

Once both problems were resolved, it was business as usual. They were oddly fit to a life similar to their past one. Just with sex, and fighting over personal matters, and Donna's new rule of vacations.

Harvey was learning, slowly but surely, to take time out. To see the world, with her at his side. She'd begun to realise that Harvey would do almost anything, as long as he had her right there with him.

And she wasn't going anywhere. She had strung herself to his ship long ago, like some mermaid destined to sail every ocean that his heart set on.

Suddenly the pieces started to fit together.

. .

. .

 _ **Five Months Later:**_

"Donna, do you know where you left the wine?" He calls out into the hall. "Donna?" He calls from the kitchen. "Donna!" He calls impatiently.

" _Hold your horses, Mister_ , She placates, wandering into the kitchen.

It had taken her four months to find a place better than Harveys Condo. She'd almost driven him crazy with the expedition a such a thing.

The fact was, that his apartment, as beautiful as it was, and as tragic as it was to leave it behind - _she had tried to encourage him to keep it, but there was something burning in his mind about starting over fresh_ \- it just wasn't big enough for the two of them. They had a lot of things. _Clothes, mostly._

She had agreed to sell her own apartment, wanting to pony up some of the money - little did she know Harvey had saved it for 'their future', which meant _whatever future she had mind with him_ \- to help find a place that was bigger, better and with more square footage than their apartments combined. And most of all, somewhere they could make as _just theirs_.

Eventually, she had happened on this place; a Private Penthouse Duplex on the Upper West Side, with four bedrooms, two baths, an ample kitchen come diner in chrome and white, two enormous rooftop patios, with every view of Manhattan you could ever wish for and even a small Office for Harvey to conduct business from home on those occasions that Donna forced him to take annual leave.

He had made love to her until the sun came up, the night that they had signed the lease. It was perfect, just them, with its contemporary decor in greys and whites and blues, and a Master Bedroom that housed a stunning fireplace.

He watches as she opens a cupboard - one he hadn't looked in before yelling for her - and gestures rather flamboyantly to the exact case of wine that he was looking for.

He quirks an eyebrow, gratitude sliding across his face as she graduates towards him, waiting for his response.

"What would I do without you?" He manages, giving her a look of defeat.

"Die, _helpless_ and alone on the streets?" She offers with a smile, her hand sliding around his waist as he pulls her closer to him, kissing the side of her temple.

"You sure you want to do this?" He asks, looking at her then. "We could just... _you_ _know_." He offers, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Harvey…these are _our friends_. The least we could do is have a house warming party so that they can come over _for the first time_ , and actually see our house!" She says. "It's been a month since we moved in, and no one has even been here." She says, gesturing to the large apartment. "Mike hasn't even shown up at some ungodly hour, like he usually does."

"I think that has more to do with the fact that last time he was there, you walked into the lounge naked."

"I thought I heard you close the door!" She shrugs, unperturbed by the vibrant memory of Mike Ross running out of his apartment with a hand over his face. "I was going for the whipped cream." She adds. "That was a really good night."

He ignores the slightly sultry look in her eyes, continuing. "It's just that..I like that it's... _just_ _ours to see.._." He explains, frowning.

"And it'll be ours to see _tomorrow_." She reasons. " _Come on_...let's just have one night, where we eat and drink and laugh with our best friends, and let them snoop about our house, get thoroughly drunk and collapse in the guest beds that we _currently_ have no use for. Come on...it'll be like a _weekend vacation_." She options. "Now, doesn't that sound like fun?" She offers, her hand sliding against the left panel of his chest.

"Am I supposed to respond to that?" He says, giving her an unimpressed look.

In truth, _he's fine with it_. It's just that this week has been horrendous, with case after case not going as planned, and problems with almost all of their big cases at every turn. Plus, he sees them all at work everyday anyway. _Mike mostly_ , but definitely all of them. The last thing he wants to do is spend his Friday night forcibly avoiding work conversation when it's all still going around in his head. He'd rather spend the night immersed in her, a considerable distraction from the rigours of the world.

"You're impossible," She groans, her hand sliding away from him as she places each of the white wine bottles into the fridge.

They had agreed to cook, rather than order in, or book one of Manhattan's many catering delivery services. They'd vitod the option of hiring a Caterer outright, after Harvey had commented on being adversely against ' _some stranger cooking in my home_ '. When she had told him of the event on the previous day, Harvey had immediately made a joke about Donna finally hosting _another dinner party_ , after all these years and the many opportunities that would present for this to be the possible 'second god awful dinner party' of her amatuer hosting career. She had thrown her clothes at him in response to his comment, before stating that Rachel would be the one helping her cook, and he'd end up with Barbeque duty if he wasn't careful.

He had been particularly interested in having an interconnected audio system in this place, something he hadn't had in the last. He loved his record player, loved the authentic sound of the vinyl and memories that were held in each record, but there was something neat about being able to click music on at any point in the house, and after Donna had introduced him to the wonders of Spotify, he was now firmly cheating on his record collection.

He clicks the console in the kitchen, hearing Jazz move through the entire house, as the door rings suddenly.

They look to one another, a sense of occasion about the fact that they are about to welcome people into their first home as a real couple.

His eyes skate down her form quickly, admiring her soft, cottony wrap around dress with short sleeves and a popping red colour to it, that looks like it holds an invitation, like a gift for him to accept willingly and open with enthusiasm. Obviously, he likes her clothes at work, she's always elegant and imposing and manages to hook his attention in more ways than one, but he's come to appreciate her more relaxed style of dress for the times that they're not at work. Tonight she is casual, yet still elegant, and very much shorter in flats instead of heels. He's begun to favour her lack of heels at home, something inherently biological in her being shorter than him, intrinsic in his dna that makes him want to protect her all the more. He's not proud of the very misogynistic overtone of the fact, but he can't escape the way he feels about her when she's small and dainty and has the ability to fit under his chin when she's feeling crappy and needs some comfort from him.

"You ready?" She asks, her game face on as he meets her at the door.

He is _not_ ready. He is tired. But he loves her. And his friends. And it's enough to encourage a compliance in him.

"Let's... _do this_." He offers as they walk to the door.

"Come on guys, I need to pee!" They hear Mike call from the other side of the door.

Donna gives him a look, smirking at their impatient friend at the other side of the door as she pulls the door too.

Both visitors erupt into words of welcome, as Rachel smiles at Donna and Mike sidles past Harvey with an impatience.

"Come on in Mike," Harvey remarks sarcastically, before pointing in the direction of the bathroom.

He looks to Rachel, watching her peel out of Donna's jovial hug, and smiles warmly as he kisses her cheek. "Hey Rach," He greets to his best friend's fiancee, before Donna steals her, nay, pulls her into the apartment and immediately into a tour. He begins to shut the door before Louis storms in with a "Sorry I'm late, I'm here, I'm here,"

He frowns, noticing Louis's attire. "Louis...why are you in a suit?" He accuses, looking at him.

"I had a late meeting?" Louis frowns, looking obtusely at Harvey.

"I said 'casual'?" He points out, harshly, looking to his friend and Managing Partner.

"Oh. Shit. Do you have anything I can borrow?" He asks, hanging up his heavy overcoat onto the rack beside them.

"I," He drags out the lone syllable " _Do not_." Harvey offers blankly, ushering him inside.

He sighs, following after the gaggle of people with a reluctance as they descend on his perfect sanctuary.

. .

. .

An hour later, and he, Mike and Louis are debating the legitimacy of a recent merger decision of FanDuel and DraftKings, over beers, whilst Donna and Rachel work away in the kitchen, Donna keeping the flow of wine between them a consistent feature.

Harvey finds himself zoning out for a moment, when Louis and Mike start to get in a heated debate, with all the pomp and circumstance of an argument.

"I can't even believe you're saying this to me right now? It's like setting up an argument for Jason v Goliath?!" Mike exclaims, leaning over the dinner table with his beer in his hand. "If they merge, they monopolise the market by over eighty percent! That's on par with communist occupation." He says. "It makes a mockery of the Antitrust Law!"

"Mike, that's what the regulators are there for. If the regulators rule in favour of the merger then it sparks a major win for any other conglomerates that want to join hands."

"And you actually think that that's a good thing?" Mike says, outrage in his voice.

He turns his head, ignoring Mike almost losing his shit and notices Donna wiping her hands on a cloth about eight foot away in the kitchenette, before his eyes catch hers. He smirks widely, giving her a noticeable wink, and watches as she smiles, that look in her eye that she'll no doubt be mentioning later, before turning her attention to Rachel, animated beside her.

He exhales, relaxing then, as he looks between his girlfriend, and his duelling friends.

 _She was right_. This was nice. All of them, sat around together, relaxed and conversing - like somewhat normal, if not slightly law-focused people - after a rather heavy week.

He guesses, that this, is what normal family behaviour looks like.

He takes a sip of his beer, blending back into the conversation then, his attention catching. "I think what you're both missing here, is the fact that we're not involved with either of these companies. Which means, that even if they do manage to merge, the fact that they'll block the market means more and newer companies will be chomping at the bit to knock them off the block. So...let's just... _wait and see_ , shall we…" He placates, looking between them both before muttering something about needing more beer.

He gravitates towards the kitchen, Rachel and Donna's conversation ending in giggles and knowing looks as he observes them both, Rachel, frying something meaty in a pan and Donna mixing something that vaguely looks like salad in a bowl.

"How's it going in here, ladies?" He says, his eyes flicking to Donna, as his hand touches the middle of her back.

"Why? Worried I was taking the helm?" She accuses, a challenge in her tone as she looks at him over her shoulder.

"Oh no, not at all." He smirks, watching her swish her hair like a cat's tail. "Just passing through as a casual bystander." He insists, passing past them to open the fridge, collecting three beers in his hands.

"In his defence, he already knew I couldn't cook worth a damn, when he hitched his wagon to mine." She notes casually, placing the bowl she is mixing onto the counter as he smiles back at her, hearing Rachel titter beside them.

"Oh, _I don't know_ …" He counters, his voice low as both women watch him sidle up to Donna. "You're pretty spectacular with _desserts_ ," He compliments, kissing her soundly, and noticing the creep of red blush across her pale skin, before sliding around her and towards the dining table with a self satisfied look at knocking her off kilter.

It's become a game for them, besting one another. They had always done it, except, now there's no line between them anymore, and all the more ways to win a point.

"Desserts huh?"

"Rachel. You don't want to know," She warns, watching Harvey gravitate back to the table with a smug grin sliding onto his face.

. .

. .

"Could you two be _any_ cuter?" Donna hears Rachel whisper, a sense of secrecy about her words, considering their closeness to the boys at the dining table.

Donna sighs, feeling her blush start to subside as she looks to the men, now deep in conversation over refilled beers.

"I know... _and to think_...a year ago I never thought in a million years that I'd end up like this."

"It looks good on the two of you." Rachel compliments.

"You think?" She asks, looking to her friend.

" _Very much so_. I've never seen him look so…."

" _Donna'd_?" She offers with a wry smile.

Her friend laughs then. "I was going to say... _happy_." Rachel clarifies.

"Yeah," She sighs, looking to Harvey. "I think that has more to do with me finally not bugging him about finding a place."

"This apartment _is_ gorgeous though...it makes mine and Mike's look like a Studio in Hoboken." Rachel sighs, observing the classic decor and very grown up feel of the place.

"Well, _don't worry_ …when you've hit the lawyer big time then you get to find your _own_ penthouse apartment." She tells her friend, mixing a dressing in a bowl.

"Do you mind if I ask...how much it...cost?"

She looks down to see Rachel looking candidly at her, and ambiguity of such a question playing across her innocent looking face.

"You don't want to know." She says. " _You really don't_."

"Two?" She offers, holding up two fingers.

"Add another two of those twos to that and you're _nearly_ there…"

"Oh my god." Rachel gasps, before checking if the men heard her.

" _I know_ …" She whispers, groaning. "If I hadn't come into money from 'The Donna' I'd feel like his literal charity case."

"It must be nice though...to be... _right there_."

"Yeah...it's been a...long time coming."

"You both deserve it."

She looks at her friend, the sentiment thick between them.

"Thanks Rach." She says, nudging her shoulder gently. "Come on, let's get these men fed, before Mike takes a bite out of Louis." She encourages, hearing Rachel chuckle beside her.

"Okay, gentleman, knives, forks, plates, and wine. Please make it look beautiful, for this special occasion." Donna requests, piling items on the table.

"Ms Paulsen runs a tight ship here," Mike comments, looking to Harvey.

"Only if you're lazy ass," Harvey counters, looking poignantly to his friend, handing him the placemats.

"Why didn't you just do this before we got here?" Mike asks. "We're the guests."

"Because then we wouldn't be able to sit at the table, dumbass...just pour the god damned wine, Mike." Harvey orders, groaning at his friend's particular mood of the night. He stands up, watching as Rachel brings a bowl of salad to the table. "Is he always like this on a Friday night?" Harvey asks.

"Only when I don't take him out for run before hand…" She smirks, looking to her other half.

"Look...I _may_ have had a beer or two before I got here," Mike admits.

"Ah….so this _drunk_ Mike…" Donna sighs, giving him the once over. "The more annoying of the Mikes…" She notes, looking about their guests.

"Harvey's always in a mood. No one ever comments on _that_ …" Mike points out, trying to deflect the scrutiny as he looks to his Boss.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I'm in a great mood," Harvey remarks, pouring the wine for each of them as Rachel and Louis handle the plates, Donna laying down napkins.

"But that's just from all the sex," Donna jokes, elbowing Mike as the truth hits closer than any of them realise. The room erupts in sputters of laughter, as Harvey gives her an unimpressed look.

"Thank you Donna," Harvey remarks looking to his other half.

"You're welcome, Honey," She plays, laying it on thick.

"Well...this all looks stunning," Louis says, changing the subject, as they all take their places, looking about the table at the spread of food.

Rachel sits next to Donna, with Harvey at head of the table, then Mike and Louis opposite both women.

"So, what fine delights have you ladies cooked up for us tonight?" Louis asks, looking to Rachel and Donna.

"Don't look at me," Donna says, raising her eyebrows. "I was merely the Sous Chef."

" _We have_ …" Rachel pauses, smiling with a shyness at being the centre of attention for a moment. "Pork Loin, rolled with a mushroom and radicchio filling, accompanied with a fondant potato and a warm apple and squash salad." she says, laying her napkin in her lap.

"It looks awesome, Rach," Donna says, smiling.

"I think a toast is in order." Louis encourages, looking about the table as everyone raises a glass. " _Firstly_ , to Rachel, for this fantastic dinner, that I'm sure will live up to her very high standards. And Secondly, to Harvey and Donna...the first time I met you...I asked you if you were Harvey's girlfriend," He pauses, watching the table erupt into varying reactions. "And you put me in my place...telling me that you were his 'Girl Friday' not his girlfriend." He corrects. "Since then I have seen the two of you stick together like glue,"

"Nice rhyme Louis," Harvey teases, smirking at his friend.

"Will you let me finish? I'm _trying_ to be nice…" He says, fussily, as the noise dies down. "You...are the pillar of putting your work above your lives. And I've seen it change you, over the years. _Mike and Rachel_...with all due respect, had it easy, _**at the start**_. But you two...it took you a long time to get here. And, sitting here, as your friend, and your colleague, watching the two of you...it's an honor to know you both, as individuals, and now... _as a couple_. So...I'd like to raise a glass, to Harvey and to Donna…"

"To Harvey and Donna," Mike and Rachel chime in, smiles falling about the room.

" _To Family_ ," Harvey bests, looking at Louis. He swears that he sees a tear in the man's eye at that, as he slides a knowing glance towards Donna, watching as they all toast themselves into the evening.

. .

 _One night to be confused_  
 _One night to speed up truth_  
 _We had a promise made_  
 _Four hands and then away_  
 _Both under influence_  
 _We had divine scent_  
 _To know what to say_  
 _Mind is a razorblade_

 _To call for hands of above, to lean on_  
 _Wouldn't be good enough for me, no_

 _One night of magic rush_  
 _The start: a simpel touch_  
 _One night to push and scream_  
 _And then relief_  
 _Ten days of perfect tunes_  
 _The colours red and blue_  
 _We had a promise made_  
 _We were in love_

 _'Heartbeats' By The Knife (Cover by Jose Gonzales)_

. .

The house is silent, the glow of the night flooding into the many rooms of the house. All occupants are in bed, fed and drunk and having talked the night out into the early hours.

Donna stretches, the haze of alcohol falling into her blood, and calming her limbs, as she glances at the orange glow of the fire that contrasts the hazy middle blue of the start of dawn that pulls into the room from it's large windows. Harvey's arm sweeps across the curve of her lower back, making her skin tingle as she turns her head to him, her eyes falling on the dark encompassing gaze of the man that she's grown to love more and more with each passing day.

"Hey...you can't sleep either?" He supposes, looking to her.

"No… _just_ …thinking." She says, sleepily.

" _About_?" He asks, his fingers tracing up her spine, as his index finger draws patterns over each of her vertebrae.

" **I want a baby**." She says plainly, her eyes narrowing slightly in anticipation of the vast possibility of words that he could use in response to her statement.

He pouts slightly, his eyes glancing in the middle distance, as he takes in the concept that she's laid out for him. "So...a little more than thinking." He muses.

If she's learnt anything about him over the past few months, it's that Harvey doesn't like to make quick judgements over the important things in life. He shoots from the hip at work but _not_ with them.

"I know it's fast, but...time's a'...tickin'." She says softly. "Unless...you don't _want_ -"

"Oh, **_I do_**." He catches her unsure words, his response solid as his hand flattens on her back, smoothing around her left lung. "But if you're gonna have one...you need another to go with it." He says.

"Oh yeah?" She smirks, turning onto her side then, looking at him with slight shock.

"Well _yeah_...kids need other kids to play with. And my Brother's kids are growing up...and...I don't see Mike and Rach knocking one out any time soon…" He remarks.

"How many are we talking, exactly? You looking to re-staff the _entire_ firm, or just…." She jokes, watching as he chuckles at the prospect.

"Like...two? _Or three_?" He offers, giving her a look.

" _Oh god_ , I'm literally never going to see my job again," She laughs, taken aback at the ball she's set in motion, and the thought of it crashing into her almost perfect life.

He smirks at her sudden reservation, his hand folding around her waist as he slides closer to her, pulling the covers further off of them in favour of their bodies coming closer and fitting together like perfectly interlocking pieces.

His head bends, lowering his lips to capture hers as he revels in the feel of her. He feels her, slightly on edge, until his tongue slides into her mouth and only then does she relax. He pulls back, his hand sliding into her thick mop of hair.

"As long as it's _more_ than one, I don't care." He tells her softly.

"Two it is then," She smiles, allowing him to press her into the mattress as he climbs on top of her with ease, their appetite for one another reignited by the decision.

"You realise, of course, that you're going to end up having two girls, right?" She reminds him.

" ** _I'd expect nothing less_** ," He mumbles against her skin, the prospects of their love making having more of an effect than it ever has had before.

They make a baby _that_ weekend.

It's as if the entire world was calling for it to come into being.

. .

. .

 _ **There is a house built out of stone**_

 _ **Wooden floors, walls and window sills**_

 _ **Tables and chairs worn by all of the dust**_

 _ **This is a place where I don't feel alone**_

 _ **This is a place where I feel at home**_

 _ **'Cause, I built a home**_

 _ **For you**_

 _ **For me**_

' _ **Build a Home'**_

 _ **By The Cinematic Orchestra.**_

 _fin._

. .

. .

Author's Note:

For anyone interested in the apartment I found for them...here it is. I love fantasy shopping for these two massive losers.

(www dot) nestseekers (dot com) /647563/Upper-West-Side-Manhattan-NY


End file.
